


Ferret's Fandom Stocking Stuffers

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fandom Stocking 2018, Ficlet Collection, From Fluff to Smut to Angst!, M/M, tags in notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-09 15:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: My Fandom Stocking fills for 2018. Each one has been posted in the comments on DW. This is an archive for safekeeping, but I also wanted to make these available for anyone to read, as well as the giftees.Please review the notes in each chapter for tags and ratings. I've tried my best to write something the recipient would want, so not everything is my usual fare. Explicit is the maximum rating, but most are T.Happy New Year!





	1. Heart Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nasa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nasa/gifts), [nanasekei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanasekei/gifts), [Impala_Chick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Chick/gifts), [Fluffypanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffypanda/gifts), [sheron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheron/gifts), [elimymoons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elimymoons/gifts), [ashes0909](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/gifts), [msermesth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msermesth/gifts), [MassiveSpaceWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/gifts), [nostalgicatsea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgicatsea/gifts), [Kiyaar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyaar/gifts), [Ironlawyer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironlawyer/gifts), [willidothefandango (nagth)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagth/gifts), [justanotherpipedream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherpipedream/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Captain Rogers?"
> 
> Steve leapt up out of his chair, shaking off the dregs of an anxious doze and the ache of a plastic hospital chair. "Yes?" His mouth was dry and cottony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Worry, Love, Hospitals.
> 
> Rated: T
> 
> For [nasa's stocking](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/757175.html) <3

"Captain Rogers?"

Steve leapt up out of his chair, shaking off the dregs of an anxious doze and the ache of a plastic hospital chair. "Yes?" His mouth was dry and cottony; he cleared his throat aggressively.

"He's waking up," the doctor said softly. She urged Steve towards the door and down a long hallway.

"He's - he's okay?"

"Yes, Captain," she said, with the patient tone of someone who was used to repeating things to distraught family members.

"I'm - sorry. I just. I saw him go down so - I thought."

She patted his arm. "You can see for yourself, sir. He's going to be groggy, sore, maybe a bit confused about what happened, but he's okay. Don't let him eat anything. He can sip water and chew a little ice if he wants, but check with a nurse before you give him anything else, alright?"

Steve nodded firmly, trying to file her words away in the part of his brain that wasn't just screaming _GO GRAB HIM_ at top volume. His fingers itched to be full of soft brown hair, steady breath against his chest, soft glow of the arc reactor - the hard knot that had formed in his throat a few hours ago throbbed painfully and he coughed again.

They stopped outside a nondescript hospital room door, and the doctor gestured him in. "He might be asleep again, but I assure you, Captain -" she met his eyes firmly "- he's going to be alright."

"Thank you." Steve grabbed her hand and wrung it. "I -" his eyes flicked to the room. "Thank you."

She nodded and stepped away, saving him from having to be the one to end their conversation when all he wanted to do was go in that room. Steve pushed the cracked door open enough to accommodate his shoulders and slipped inside. "Tony?"

Tony looked tiny in the sea of sheets and pillows they'd nested him in. One of his legs was propped up on a pillow, covered in white gauze and tape. Tape - tape everywhere. It was like he was a smashed porcelain toy they'd patched back together. But the gauze was all bright and clean and Tony's eyes were only half-lidded, his dopey gaze following Steve's track across the room. His chest rose and fell.

Steve sat down heavily in the chair next to his bed. "Shit."

Tony laughed then winced. "Hi," he croaked.

"You are in so much trouble," Steve breathed.

"Love you too." Tony's fingers twitched, and Steve slid his hand underneath them, avoiding anything that had been taped back together. He curled two fingers over the back of Tony's undamaged hand and squeezed softly. Tony squeezed back.

"I love you so much." The knot in his throat wouldn't go down. Steve squirmed in his seat, the adrenaline slow to decline, panic hard to overcome even in the face of Tony's overwhelming aliveness.

"Anything permanent?" Tony whispered.

"Not this time." Steve inched his chair closer, eyes skipping from patched up place to patched up place, cataloging the damage, cataloging Tony's perfect, whole, breathing self. "You - you can have ice…"

"I'm alright. The nurse gave me some water." Tony sighed and shifted a little on the sheets, then his eyes opened all the way and fixed on Steve. "What?"

Steve forcibly controlled his breathing. "What what?"

"You're still freaking out, sweetheart."

"I - sorry. I'm okay. You just - I saw you go down. I thought - I saw -" _The_ armour _twisted in the air then went limp, **dark** , and Tony was a deadweight, plummeting to the earth, crashing off a bridge strut before hitting the water._

Tony's thumb soothed over the back of Steve's hand. "Shh." He lifted his other hand, and Steve jerked forward to try and anticipate what Tony needed and provide it, but Tony didn't seem bothered, moving that arm. He reached for his chest and tugged down the edge of the heavy blanket they'd tucked him into. He wiggled it until soft blue light spilled into the room.

And Steve could breathe.

He leaned forward with a broken off sob and pressed his forehead to Tony's hip, twisting his chin up so he could see the glow of Tony's heart. Tony's fingers found his cheek then his hair. His eyes dropped shut. "You okay?" he murmured.

"I'm okay - you're okay," Steve replied.

"'Gon' sleep," Tony slurred.

"Shh, you sleep, love."

"Mmm." Tony's mouth went slack and his fingers fell limply to Steve's cheek. Steve didn't move, stayed curled up at Tony's side, even when his neck started to protest, even when his shoulder ached and his mouth called for water and his skin prickled with sweat against Tony's hip. He stayed there, eyes fixed on the light of the arc reactor.


	2. The Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve stared at the clock as it ticked its way around towards lunchtime. Mr. Pierce droned on and on, pausing only to write more equations on the board. Steve copied them down with little attention. This was going to suck once finals came around, but he couldn't bring himself to follow along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High School AU, Pre-Serum Steve, Misunderstandings, Crushes, Pining.
> 
> Rated: T
> 
> For [Elcorhamletlive/nanasekei's stocking](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/751506.html) <3

Steve stared at the clock as it ticked its way around towards lunchtime. Mr. Pierce droned on and on, pausing only to write more equations on the board. Steve copied them down with little attention. This was going to suck once finals came around, but he couldn't bring himself to follow along.

Not when the back of Tony Stark's head was two seats in front of him.

Steve dropped his chin into his hand and held back a sigh. Tony Stark: famous, rich, beautiful, and entirely out of Steve's league. That didn't stop him being in love with him from eighth grade on, though. And now they were in eleventh, and Tony still wouldn't give him the damn time of day. 

Steve couldn't blame him. Who would be interested in a scrawny, broke, mouthy asshole who wore a black eye instead of designer jeans? Steve barely came up to Tony's chest - he wasn't entirely sure Tony had ever even noticed he was there.

But that didn't stop Steve's stupid heart from wanting. 

"Mr. Rhodes!" Mr. Pierce snapped, and all the students startled up from their math-induced dozes. "Give me that."

Steve looked on as James shot Tony a worried a look. They were always passing notes all throughout class, but they both aced their tests every time so Steve wasn't sure why Pierce cared. James held out a folded piece of paper, and Pierce unwrapped it. 

"Maybe if the whole class hears what you think is more important than my class, you won't feel quite like carrying on your distracting private conversations anymore."

"Mr. Pierce, please, I -" Tony started, but Pierce cut him off with a sharp glare. Steve withered from second-hand embarrassment.

Pierce held up the note and leaned back against his desk. "'I know. It was so stupid,'" he read out. "'He tried to take on Hodge by himself. He has to know that's just going to result in another black eye, right? I -'  _ ahem."  _ Pierce cleared his throat and cut himself off, eyes flicking down the row towards Steve.

The embarrassment was no longer second-hand. Steve could feel every set of eyes in the room fixed on him. They'd been talking about him. Tony and James. And if he'd thought it was bad that Tony didn't know who he was, this was so much worse. Tony knew who he was, alright, and thought he was  _ stupid.  _

Steve's eyes prickled and he buried his face in his notebook and refused to look at any of the other students.

"Well," Pierce said. "That's enough of that." He dropped the note in the garbage and went back to the blackboard. "Moving on."

Steve didn't hear another word for the rest of class.

When the bell rang, he took off out of his seat, too humiliated to go to the lunchroom with the other students. He saw Tony crouching over the trash can but he pushed past, avoiding everyone's eye, and ran all the way down the south stairwell. He dumped his bag on the floor and sunk down in the corner, listening to the pounding feet and chatter of the other kids going up to eat their lunches. He hadn't thought there was anything worse than being ignored for all of high school, but here it was. He couldn't even bring himself to go find Bucky and tell him what happened; Tony would be at his table in the middle of the lunch room, surrounded by all his popular friends. They'd probably laugh when Tony told them what happened.

Steve sniffled and rubbed the back of his hands over his eyes. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of making him cry. 

"Uh… Steve?" A small voice had him snapping up and squaring up. 

It was Tony.

Steve sunk back down to the floor, a hot flush crawling up under his collar. "I didn't know you knew my name."

"Of course, I know your name." Tony shuffled where he stood. 

"Did Pierce make you come apologize?" Steve asked. "Cause if he did, I'd rather you just leave me alone."

"What? No. No, he didn't say anything. He's an asshole, he wouldn't think of that."

Steve fiddled with the strap on his bag. "So what then? Come to beat me up too? You know Hodge was picking on Darcy Lewis, right? She didn't want to go to a teacher."

"I know!" Tony said earnestly. He took a few steps closer to Steve. "I don't want to beat you up. I - uh." Tony dug around in his pocket. "Here. It's pretty fucking embarrassing, but I guess I owe you one, and then some."

A piece of paper landed in Steve's lap. It looked like the folded note from math class. He shot Tony a look, but Tony just looked resigned to his fate, like a man on the way to the guillotine. "Why would I want to read this again? I had enough the first time, thanks."

"Trust me," Tony said firmly. "You want to read it. Pierce didn't read the whole thing."

Steve frowned down at it. That didn't really inspire confidence. More mocking him wasn't going to make him feel any better. But he was never one to back down from a challenge. He tugged the note open and smoothed it out. It was clear, now, that James and Tony had been writing back and forth on the same paper all throughout class, but Pierce had only opened the most recent fold. Steve could see the  _ it was so stupid  _ like it was highlighted on the page, but he forced himself to find the beginning and start there. God help him, he recognized the curve of Tony's handwriting easily, so the choppy printing must have been James.

_ Tony: He's wearing that shirt again. _

_ James: omg Tony, just do something about it _

_ Tony: I can't. I'm dying. I'm dead. Order my coffin. You're giving the eulogy, Rhodey.  _

_ James: 'Here lies Tony, he was as smart as a rocket scientist, but as dumb as a stump.' _

_ Tony: He's survived by his painful crush which was so massive, it failed to die with him. _

_ James: You're such an idiot. Did you see Game of Thrones last night? _

_ Tony: I can't talk about Game of Thrones. I'm the broken shell of a man. He's wearing that shirt, Rhodey. T h a t s h i r t. _

_ James: You need to stay caught up so I have someone to screech at about it. Ask him out. _

_ Tony: He doesn't want to go out with me. _

_ James: I don't blame him. _

Steve crumpled the corner of the paper in his hand. He didn't want to read about Tony's crush. Was Tony showing this to make sure Steve knew that he didn't have a hope in hell? That not only did Tony think he was a loser, he was also in love with someone else? Steve's heart thumped painfully in his chest, but he read on, refusing to show how much he was hurting.

_ Tony: Did you see him yesterday? _

_ James: No, can't say I did. I don't have a RogersRadar like you do. _

Steve frowned. Rogers? Was there another guy in their grade with the last name Rogers? Or a Roger? But they had talked about him at some point. Maybe he'd missed a fold?

_ Tony: You know that dickwad, Hodge? He was picking on Darcy and Steve told him to shut the fuck up. It was amazing. _

Steve's throat swelled up with a heavy knot. It was Hodge punching him that was amazing, right?

_ James: What happened? _

_ Tony: Hodge clocked him one. But Darcy looked so grateful and he's left her alone since then.  _

_ James: Where was his friend? Doesn't he usually stand up for him? _

_ Tony: The other James? I dunno. He wasn't around. I almost went over to back him up, but I chickened out. Arggghhh why does he have to be so hot and nice?? It's like he was put on this earth to torture me. _

_ James: Could do with a better sense of self-preservation though. _

_ Tony: I know! It was so stupid. He tried to take on Hodge by himself. He has to know that's just going to result in another black eye, right? I wish I could be half as brave as him. Fuck Rhodey, I'm so in love with that guy. I wish he would hang out with us. Gahhhhh. _

_ James: Just. Ask. Him. Ou _

The note cut off suddenly, where Pierce had broken in. Steve's hands were shaking. He had to be reading it wrong, right? There was no way Tony liked him.  _ Him.  _ After all these years of wanting…

"What?" Steve choked out, at a loss.

Tony coughed and laughed nervously to himself. "Yeah. So. I embarrassed you and now I'm the one embarrassed. You can email it to the whole school or something, out my crush, laugh at me. I deserve it. Anyway. I'm sorry." Tony put his foot on the bottom step. "Oh, and I think it's really amazing what you did for Darcy. She's my friend's little sister." He shrugged. "Bye, Steve."

"Wait!" Steve stumbled up to his feet, shoving his backpack out of the way, the note clutched in his hand. "Is this - do you really, uh, like me?" Steve examined his own shirt as if that somehow held the answers. It was just… blue.

Tony laughed again and dropped his gaze to his hands. He wound his fingers together. "Sure. Who wouldn't? I've had a crush on you for like three years. Rhodey's about ready to push me out of a third story window. But like, I hope that's not super weird. If you wanted to eat lunch with us sometime, I wouldn't make it awkward. You can bring your friends. I think Peggy and Jane would like each other…" He shrugged again, shifting his weight back and forth.

"Uh, Tony?"

"Yeah?"

Steve held up the note. "I think your friend James actually has really good advice."

Tony opened his mouth then closed it again. He blinked. "About watching Game of Thrones?" he asked tentatively.

Steve snorted and shook his head.

Tony cleared his throat. "About… uh… asking you out?"

Steve nodded slowly. 

"Really?" Tony took a step forward, but he stumbled on the stairs and nearly barrelled right into Steve. "I thought you didn't like me."

"I thought you didn't know my name," Steve replied.

"Oh. I do. I mean…. Yeah. So."

"So." Steve couldn't remember how to breathe.

"Do you… want to go out sometime?"

Steve nodded, a smile blooming slowly. Tony soon had one to match. "I'd really like that."

"Oh. Well, shit. That's awesome!" Tony grinned. "Can I meet you after class? I'll walk you home. Or if you're allowed, you can come to my place."

"That would be great. My mom won't mind."

"Alright. I'll meet you by the soccer field after last period." Tony bounced on his toes, his wide grin infectious. "Awesome," he repeated, then he bounded away. 

Steve was left standing in the stairwell with his backpack, Tony's note, and, apparently, a date. He couldn't stop smiling. 


	3. The Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony curled his paws in the snow, digging his claws in. He stretched his head up, nose to the sky, and huffed in several chilled breaths. It was a beautiful night, and the air was heavy with the scent of wolf and human alike, but there was one particular flavour he was eager to pull from the bouquet.
> 
> He breathed in again.
> 
> There - warm and spiced on the cold night, like hot apple cider, a little sweet, but with the bite of cinnamon and cloves: _Steve._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Werewolves, Shapeshifters, Pack, Chase, Established Relationship, Nesting.
> 
> Rated: T
> 
> For [Fluffypanda's stocking!](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/737086.html) <3

Tony curled his paws in the snow, digging his claws in. He stretched his head up, nose to the sky, and huffed in several chilled breaths. It was a beautiful night, and the air was heavy with the scent of wolf and human alike, but there was one particular flavour he was eager to pull from the bouquet.

He breathed in again. 

There - warm and spiced on the cold night, like hot apple cider, a little sweet, but with the bite of cinnamon and cloves:  _ Steve. _

Tony hunched back down and stretched long and low then took off, flying silently across the snow. It wasn't long before he put the soft glow of the compound buildings behind him, the moonlight and stars all that lit his path through the woods. But his shifted eyes didn't need much light to see by, and besides, they weren't what he was using to track his target. 

Steve's scent grew heavier as Tony drew nearer, only a mile out now, and every breath was heavy with  _ SteveSteveSteve.  _ Nothing else registered in Tony's mind, tunnel-scenting, as he slunk through the trees, ears pricked up and searching for the sound of soft paws on fresh ice.

Movement - white fur flashing between two branches, too alive to be snow. Tony dropped low and rumbled, a warning. Steve stilled, turned, and his blue eyes glowed in the dark, finding Tony's and meeting them. He growled back. The air was thick with his smell, making Tony salivate heavily, mouth dropping open and tongue lolling out. Need throbbed heavy in his stomach. He growled again, and Steve dropped to his forepaws, once, then bolted.

Tony took off after him. 

The trees blurred, irrelevant, as Tony locked on Steve, darting across the snow and ice towards his cloud-white coat. His throat was ragged from sucking ice-cold air into his lungs, and it burned as hot as the need that raged inside him. The rush of chase sent adrenaline pounding through Tony's chest with every heartbeat, and he dug into it, thrilling, grinning, at the peak-point of alive.  He could hear Steve's heart, double time to his as the serum pumped through his veins. Steve ran on, and Tony followed. 

He wouldn't be able to catch Steve in a test of pure speed or stamina, but he had an advantage of his own: he knew where Steve would go. Tony focused on keeping Steve in his sights, staying close enough that Steve would feel the threat and keep running but far enough that he wouldn't turn and try to fight.

Another wolf-scent carved through Tony's one-track mind and he spun and stilled, a wild growl ripping out his chest and echoing through the dark night. Through the haze, he realized it was Sam and Nat, walking on the compound grounds together. They stilled, stiff, watching Tony for a moment, then pointedly turned and slunk off the other way, not challenging. Mollified, Tony turned back to his prey. Steve had gained some ground on him, but Tony dug his paws in and powered on. The ground flew by beneath his feet as they circled wide and curled back towards the sprawl of buildings of Avengers Compound. Just as he suspected.

Steve darted through a copse of trees then hit open field. Tony watched him fly across the white ground, as silent as the snowflakes that tumbled from the sky. Muscles rippled under his thick coat and Tony's teeth itched to dig into it, pin him to the ground.

They both picked up speed on the wide expanse, and it wasn't long before Steve was rapidly approaching a small outbuilding on the edge of the compound. He didn't hide his intent, nose pointed towards the door, and when he flew through, it was only a moment later that Tony powered in after him. 

Steve was at the opposite end of the large, nearly empty room, pacing back and forth, panting, cornered. Tony dropped low and slunk across the floor, keeping himself between Steve and the door. Steve whined and turned back the other way, eyes flicking over Tony's shoulder towards the door. 

But Tony didn't give him a chance to break for it. He dug his claws in and pounced, slamming into Steve's side and rolling them both to the ground. He latched his jaws on the back of Steve's neck, thrilling at the mouthful of beautiful white fur he managed. Steve writhed under him, but Tony bit hard and twisted, getting his legs out from under him and using Steve's weight against him. 

Fur faded and gave way to soft, pink skin and the room filled with Steve's laughter. Tony melted off his own coat, shifting back to human and shaking off the rush of the chase. He grinned down at Steve, sprawled naked beneath him, chest heaving with heavy breaths and joyful giggles. Tony growled again, lighter and softer from a human throat, and rubbed his nose into Steve's neck, breathing him in. The smell of home filled him up from tip to toe.

"Did you really posture at Nat and Sam?" Steve chuckled breathlessly.

Tony humphed and nipped at the soft skin behind Steve's ear. "They got too close."

Steve's fingers trailed down Tony's spine and he kissed the side of his face. "I love you like this."

"I love you all the time," Tony said haughtily, still a little embarrassed by how deeply the wolf took over when Steve flushed a room with his pretty mate-scent. "Thanks," he added, almost meekly.

Steve reached up and took Tony's face in both his hands, forcing their eyes to meet. "Don't thank me, Tony. Our chase means a lot to me." His thumbs smoothed the skin under Tony's eyes, probably dark from chronic lack of sleep. But Steve loved him anyway.

Tony settled in the warm space between Steve's legs, curled over his chest, keeping the rest of the world at bay, here in their nest. He bent and kissed his mate deeply. It would be a long while before they reemerged. 


	4. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony shifted his arm on Steve's waist as they stumbled their way down the path. He wasn't sure which one of them was holding the other up - Steve's breathing hitched violently with every step, and Tony couldn't put any weight on his right leg - so, really, they were probably holding each other up. All Tony knew was that he couldn't let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurt/Comfort, Lost in the Wilderness, Waiting for Rescue, Injury, Care, Love, Hopeful Ending.
> 
> Rated: T
> 
> For [Sheron's stocking here! ](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/741567.html) <3

Tony shifted his arm on Steve's waist as they stumbled their way down the path. He wasn't sure which one of them was holding the other up - Steve's breathing hitched violently with every step, and Tony couldn't put any weight on his right leg - so, really, they were probably holding each other up. All Tony knew was that he couldn't let go.

Steve's fingers dug into the armour plates hard enough that they were creaking, JARVIS pouring out a constant stream of increasingly stressed-out alerts into Tony's comm. What was left of the helmet was folded back into the suit, so he could see, breathe, hear. For now, the stiff structure of the armour was helping Tony stay upright, but the longer he wore it with low power, the heavier it would become.

A pained noise leaked out as he shifted up and over a fallen log, and Steve's fingers tightened. "Almost there, Iron Man."

"Almost where?" Tony asked, eyes locked on the rapidly dimming path in front of them. "We're in the middle of goddamn nowhere."

Steve stretched out an arm to point then gasped, pulling his elbow back in towards his chest. A whimper, so soft Tony was sure he wasn't supposed to hear it, slipped through Steve's lips. "There's a little shelter over there, one of those blinds for hunting or watching wildlife or whatever. The team will catch our distress signal eventually. We can rest there."

Tony bit his lip, holding back the string of curses that threatened to spill out. "Sure," he said flatly. The team would find them, of that he had no doubt, but what they found wasn't going to be pretty. "I suppose a hideout for badger-watching perverts is better than nothing. Maybe they left some Dom and a caviar platter last time they were out."

Steve snorted, easing them off the path and towards the flat wooden roof. "Maybe."

_ Or maybe some morphine and an inflatable cast, _ Tony added to himself.

The blind was dug partially into the ground, not more than a wooden box with a slitted window at the top and a bench at the back, but it was shelter from the elements and from any critters that might think two downed superheroes looked like a tasty midnight snack. Just in time, too. The light was fading rapidly with every minute, and by the time they climbed inside the hut, the arc reactor was the only thing lighting their way.

"Home, sweet home," Tony said mock-cheerfully, and Steve snorted again. Small comforts, making Cap laugh. 

Steve settled on the bench and tipped his head back, eyes squeezed shut. He wrapped his arm around his middle and took careful, shallow breaths.

Tony pretended not to notice, working on unscrewing some of the broken pieces of the armour and shedding them to the ground. 

"You should keep that on," Steve said, and Tony looked up to find his eyes open again, fixed on him. "It's going to get cold."

Tony could already feel the damp chill creeping up his spine. "I know. Sadly, this thing offers very little warmth in the state it's in. All the climate control needs power to run and it's too well vented in off-mode. Didn't want to bake alive in my own tin can if she went down with me inside." Tony got the chest plate off and kicked aside the left gauntlet.

Steve eyed his other leg, still firmly encased in metal, as Tony collapsed on the bench next to him. "That one stuck?"

Tony cleared his throat. "Ah. No."

"Tony."

"Leg's broken. Need the support."

"Tony -!"

"What?!" Tony huffed. "It's not like you could have carried me." He poked Steve lightly in the side, making him gasp and curl away. "The armour helps. Like a cast."

"Okay." Steve fell silent.

They sat in the growing dark for a long time, listening to the soft rustles of the night time woods, coming alive.

"How bad is it?" Steve asked.

"Honestly? I don't want to look. There might be bone sticking out."

"Oh god, Tony."

"How many of your ribs are broken?" Tony countered.

"Uh." Steve shifted on the bench. "A lot. All of them."

"Right." Tony sighed. "God we're a pathetic pair, aren't we?"

"I'll admit -" Steve shifted on the bench and groaned, his shoulder pressing tight up against Tony's "- that we're not at our best."

"Thank god we're so amazing that even in our current state we're still pretty kickass."

Steve rolled his head to the side to shoot Tony a look which quickly melted into a silly grin, and Tony's heart picked up into double time. Then his smile slid away. "In all seriousness, though," he said, voice dropping low, "are you actually alright? Don't lie to me if you can't make it through the night."

"What would you do if I said no?"

Steve sighed. "I don't know. Something rash. Right now, our best bet is to stay still, not incite any more danger, and be as easy as possible to find when the team gets our signal. But if you can't last that long, if you're in real danger, we'll have to keep moving, find help."

Tony shut his eyes and wiggled his toes, reaching past the sharp shocks of pain to process the information his nerves provided him. "It's not that bad," he said. He turned and met Steve's eye. "I promise."

"And if that changes -"

"I'll let you know." Tony wrapped his arms around his stomach. "Leg can hold out. It's getting cold though."

Steve half sat up and rummaged around in one of the packs on his belt. His breathing was still short and sharp, but better than it had been half an hour ago. He tugged out a small silver packet and unfolded it into an emergency blanket which he spread over both of them. Tony tucked up close, trying to get as much of his body as he could under the blanket, and Steve lifted his arm and wrapped it around Tony's shoulders, drawing him nearly into his lap so they took up as little space as possible. He tucked the blanket in around Tony's side. It wasn't comfortable - it was a thin piece of glorified aluminum foil - but Tony could immediately feel the benefit of being wrapped up with Steve. The super soldier constitution pumped out a bucketload of extra body heat, and Tony didn't realize how cold he'd been until he started to warm. Tension leaked out of his shoulders as he sunk into Steve's hold.

"I feel like a microwave burrito," he whispered into the dark.

Steve's chest shook with silent laugher under Tony's cheek, and then he groaned with pain.

"Sorry."

"No, no." Steve's fingers dug into Tony's shoulder, holding him close. "I'd rather laugh." But Tony bit his tongue, trying to shift around so he wasn't resting the weight of his head on Steve's broken ribs. He let out a long sigh as the warmth under the blanket thawed the last of him and Steve asked, "Do you think you could sleep?"

"No." The dull ache in his leg was too much to ignore, only heightened by the numbness receding with the abandonment of the cold. "You?"

Steve hummed uncomfortably. "I could, actually. Serum seems to work faster if I sleep so it might help heal the ribs. If they don't find us, I could carry you by tomorrow."

"Okay. You sleep."

"Are you sure? I don't want to leave you alone."

Tony nestled closer. "I won't be alone. You sleep, I'll keep an ear out for rescue. Or bears."

Steve chuckled. "Okay. Thanks, Tony."

He was out in a heartbeat.

Tony retreated to his own mind, bringing up his latest project in mental blueprints and working his way through an issue of conductivity. He estimated a few hours had passed by the time Steve stirred beside him. To his surprise, with Steve awake and feeling better beside him, Tony felt the pull of sleep sucking him down, so they traded off. He curled into Steve's side, resting his fingers on his stomach so they wouldn't turn into icicles against the frozen wood of the bench. 

"Sleep well, Tony," Steve whispered into his hair, and the soft puff of breath that came with it wriggled down Tony's spine into a mini-rush of butterflies. He'd been still and quiet for a while when Steve added, barely more than a breath of words, "Love you."

It took all of Tony's self-control not to shoot up, find Steve's eyes, ask him what he meant by that. But he clearly wasn't supposed to have heard it, and now wasn't the time for that conversation, in the dark of the woods, peeking sideways at death out of the corners of their eyes. He settled for pressing just a little closer, breathing in the smell of Steve - sweat and laundry soap and faded aftershave - and holding his words in his chest, hoarding them, letting them burn there and warm him from the inside out. He let himself sleep; there would be time for talking later.

He woke to the sound of quinjet engines.


	5. Headlines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _SUPERHERO SOAP OPERA?_ the headline read. _Captain America caught in secret tryst with billionaire Avengers backer, Tony Stark. But what will his long-time partner, Iron Man, think?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Identity Porn, Sort of, Secret Relationships, Media, Newspaper Articles, Established Relationship, MIsunderstandings.
> 
> Rated: T
> 
> For [MassiveSpaceWren's Stocking here!](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/789790.html) <3

"It was stupid. I'm sorry." Steve couldn't take his eyes off of Tony, but Tony's eyes were fixed on the newspaper spread out on the table in front of him.

_ SUPERHERO SOAP OPERA?  _ the headline read.  _ Captain America caught in secret tryst with billionaire Avengers backer, Tony Stark. But what will his long-time partner, Iron Man, think? _

"Takes two to tango," Tony said with a sigh, tracing his finger along the edge of the picture. "At least we look good in this shot." He sent a smile Steve's way. "Sultry." His eyebrow waggled.

Steve couldn't help his chuckle. "That's even worse, Tony. No one will believe that's a platonic kiss between two friends."

"Maybe you're performing CPR… up against a wall. I have a known heart condition. Everyone knows that proper CPR technique involves one hand on the victim's ass."

Steve shook his head and dropped his face to his hands with a groan. Tony's fingers skated through his hair, nails digging in and scratching a little the way he knew Steve liked. "This is so not good. What do we do?"

"Well… there's really only two things we can do."

"Okay." Steve sat up. "Hit me."

"We can do our best to brush it off. I say it was out of context at my press conference tomorrow, that we're just friends, always have been, and that Iron Man knows about what happened and it's all fine. Then at the next Avengers' press thing, we both reiterate the same thing. America's sweetheart superheros are still together, this hasn't affected our relationship, we're still very much in love and the kiss picture was taken out of context. We're not going to explain because it's nobody's business but our own."

Steve sighed. "They'll never let it go. They'll bring it up forever."

"Yup." Tony popped the "p". "You'll always be a cheater to them. Cap's reputation, forever sullied. They'll either think that Cap and Iron Man broke up but are trying to play it down publically, worried about bad PR, or they'll think that you cheated and Iron Man forgave you and took you back. Because yeah -" Tony prodded the picture again "- that ain't platonic, my dear."

"Damn right, it's not," Steve muttered, and Tony chuckled.

"The second option…" Tony leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that I come out as Iron Man."

"No."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must have had a stroke there for a moment and forgotten it wasn't my choice."

"Tony, please. That puts you right in the line of fire. Keeping your identities separate has kept you safe. If you reveal who you are now, there's a whole slew of assholes who will come gunning for you, right away."

Tony shrugged. "So what? We're the Avengers. It doesn't really change anything. It'll just mean less sneaking around, less lying. With this little thread to pull on, someone's bound to figure it out anyway."

"I don't like it."

"Well, I don't like my boyfriend being labelled a cheater."

Steve reached out and tugged Tony close, stroking his thumb over Tony's cheekbone. "You know I'd never -"

"Of course, _ I  _ know that, Steve." Tony rolled his eyes. "I know you weren't cheating on me with me. And I know you'd never cheat on me with someone else. I know."

"Then that's all that matters to me."

"Your reputation as Captain America is important. It's important to the Avengers, to the country. You stand for something, Steve, and this would sully it."

"Why did I have to be wearing the damn suit?" Steve muttered. "Or really, just the damn shield. I bet we could have played it off if I were just in the tac suit - Tony's boyfriend is a big, blond SHIELD agent who he made a stealth suit for, similar to Cap's. But no… I had to have the giant flag-target on my back."

Tony hummed. "I like it when you're wearing the suit - and the shield." He licked his lips.

"Tony…" Steve wound their fingers together. "People wrongly thinking something mean about me is not worth risking your health and safety over. Sure, some people are going to be disappointed, but if all three of us - Cap, Iron Man, and Tony - all repeat over and over that I never cheated, it'll die down, eventually. And when we're still going strong, ten years from now, that'll be the story, that we made it, despite the craziness of our lives."

Tony smiled, his soft, secret, just-for-Steve smile. "I guess you have a point." He slipped out of his chair and settled himself on Steve's lap. "I'll think about it."

"Alright. Thank you."

"Now then, Captain America." He winked. "Tell me something your real boyfriend, Iron Man, never does for you, and I'll make it so good."

Steve burst out laughing, even as his fingers skated up the familiar planes of Tony's back.

**

The next morning, Steve stood at the back of the press hall while Tony laid his carefully constructed cue cards down, looked out at the sea of journalists and said, "The truth is... I am Iron Man," and the room exploded with questions and flashbulbs.

Steve grinned, catching Tony's bright eyes over the top of the crowd; damn, he loved that man.


	6. Formal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, Steve, Nat was wondering if you have the - whoa." Tony screeched to a halt.
> 
> Steve looked up from where he was buttoning his cuffs. "Tony. You okay?"
> 
> "You're wearing the - uh - thing -"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unform Kink, Weddings, Hand Jobs, Rushed Sex, First Time, Get Together, Unsure Feelings.
> 
> Rated: E
> 
> For impala_chick's stocking[ here](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/751722.html)

"Hey, Steve, Nat was wondering if you have the - whoa." Tony screeched to a halt.

Steve looked up from where he was buttoning his cuffs. "Tony. You okay?"

"You're wearing the - uh - thing -"

Steve's cheeks pinked and he tugged at his sleeves self-consciously. "Bucky really wanted me to, since he's in his. I don't know. I thought -" He shrugged. "I said I'd wear whatever Bucky wanted." He tugged at his shirt again. "I feel old-fashioned though."

Tony hovered in the doorway, one hand gripping the doorframe until his knuckles ached. Steve was in his military dress uniform, like a picture straight out of history books, come to life. Everything was crisp lines in shades of olive green. He hadn't put the jacket on yet, medals gleaming where it lay over the back of a chair, but his stiff collar and creased pants fit him impeccably. Tony was torn between wanting to see him put the rest of the way together and wanting to see it all messed up. "Nope," Tony snapped out. "Good choice. Bucky's right."

Steve shot him a sly look, eyes dancing over Tony's crisp suit. "You look good, Tony."

Tony smirked. "Not too good, I hope. Don't want to upstage the bride."

Steve reached for his tie. "Don't think anyone could upstage Nat."

"True." Tony tugged his jacket straight. "Still salty she picked birdbrain as her maid of honour, but I think I make a pretty dashing second-in-command bridesmaid."

Steve chuckled. "I don't think that's what they call it." He started to wrap the tie around his neck, but it pulled his lips into a frown and his hands fumbled the strip of fabric. "Did you want something?"

"Huh?" 

"It sounded like you wanted something when you came in."

"Oh. Nat wanted to know if you had the rings."

"Yup." Steve gestured towards the table in the corner. "All set. I'll give Clint Bucky's before we go out."

"Alright… look - I - Okay, that's it." Tony marched in, kicking the door shut behind him, and grabbed Steve's tie out of his hands. Steve made a huffy noise and reached to grab it back. "Stand down, soldier. You're going to wear it through, hauling it around like that." 

Steve frowned again, but relented with a sigh as Tony tugged the ends to the right length. Tony's knuckles grazed Steve's firm chest and suddenly what had seemed like a very, very good idea was becoming a very very bad one. They were standing too close, Steve's chin dipped down to watch as Tony's hands tied a deft knot around his throat; Tony could feel his hot breath on the back of his hands.

"Nervous?" Tony tried, anything to distract from the way Steve's breathing stilled under his touch.  

"Yes…"

Tony flicked his eyes up to meet Steve's as he eased the knot of the tie up to his throat. He stopped when it nestled into Steve's collar. "It'll be great." His voice was so, so low. "I love a wedding. And we get to see two of our best friends get married."

Steve nodded. "Yeah…"

Tony took another breath in Steve's space then stepped back, patting him lightly on the chest. "You look -" he swallowed. "Yeah. Uniform was a good choice." 

"Thank you." The moment hung heavy between them, then broke as Steve cleared his throat. 

"We'd better go, I guess." Tony took a step towards the closed door, but Steve took two, pressing up against his back. Tony turned, stunned, as Steve crowded him against the door. 

"You know they say…" Steve murmured. 

"Yeah?" It was barely a croak.

"That the - uh - the best man… hooks up with… a bridesmaid…" Steve's eyes were fixed heavily on Tony's mouth.

"Wouldn't want to -" Tony's fingers snaked up and grabbed handfuls of Steve's shirt "- defy tradition." Tony pulled Steve in until their lips were nearly touching, sharing air. "I can take care of those nerves, Captain Rogers."

_ "Fuck," _ Steve hissed, and that was all it took. Tony hauled Steve in and pressed their lips together, Steve's palm banging against the door as he braced himself. One leg slid between Tony's and Tony ground against it, hardening instantly.

Heat crackled under Tony's skin and suddenly no amount of touching was enough. His hands rucked up Steve's shirt, scrambling under it to find bare skin as Steve's tongue slipped between his lips. It was hot and heavy and uncontrolled as they tumbled into each other, years of tension snapping into scraping fingers and exploring tongues. 

Tony worked the buttons open on Steve's pants as Steve undid his jacket roughly and gripped his sides. They ground together, the kiss pushing filthier with every roll of Tony's hips. Tony sucked Steve's bottom lip between his teeth and nipped, earning a gasp, then finally managed to get his hand down Steve's pants.

Steve honest to god  _ whimpered  _ and rucked foward into Tony's hold, rubbing his cock up Tony's palm and into the grip of his fingers. He tipped his forehead to Tony's shoulder for a moment, both hands braced on the door, then he was flurry of motion, shoving Tony's clothes out of the way as he pushed his pants down and stroked firmly up the length of his cock. Fireworks of pleasure burst with every touch, and Tony bit his lip, struggling to find a rhythm between his hand and his hips that wasn't just random, desperate thrusting.

Steve pressed him against the door, his firm body holding Tony up, and brought their lips together again. Tony swallowed down every unkempt whine that fell from Steve's lips, neither of them able to manage anything that wasn't messy, wild, and unrestrained. Steve jacked him off expertly - too expertly - and Tony writhed against him, pleasure building hot and fast. He twisted his wrist, rolled his palm over the head of Steve's cock, using every trick in the book to bring him there with him. And maybe it was too much, because Steve gasped, fucked forward into Tony's hand, trapping his arm between their bodies, and came. 

Tony squeaked with surprise, yanking his suit jacket out of the way, and Steve started apologizing, yanking a tissue from the table by the door and catching the mess. "It's okay," Tony gasped. "All good - I -  _ nuh -"  _ He grabbed Steve's hand and shoved it back down his pants. "Please."

Steve pressed him bodily back against the door and worked him roughly, efficiently, his lips hot against Tony's ear. "Come on, Tony," he whispered, and Tony was done.

Steve was prepared this time, tissue in hand, but as they both panted down from their orgasms, they shared a moment of dawning realization that they needed to stand up for their friends in about ten minutes and they were both half-dressed, rumpled, and post-orgasmic.

Steve snorted with laughter once, visibly spinning from the endorphin rush, then released Tony from the door. They crowded into the small attached bathroom to clean up, awkwardness settling like a blanket of fresh snow over both of them. Tony cleared his throat as he ran a wet paper towel over his stomach. "Or…"

Steve looked up sharply, eyes wide.

"Or instead of being super weird and awkward, we could just get dinner next week? After the wedding stuff dies down."

Steve blinked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Like… dinner-dinner?"

Tony chuckled. "Yes, Steve, dinner-dinner, complete with us and food and maybe something a little more romantic than a messy handjob in a B&B bedroom before our friends' wedding."

"You'd want that?"

Tony ducked his head, focusing on re-buttoning his jacket. "Sure. You?"

"Yes." Steve reached out and took Tony's tie in hand. He eased the knot up, straightened it, then used it to pull Tony in close. He pressed a soft kiss to the end of his nose. "Yes."

Tony swallowed heavily, fighting a too-wide grin. "Okay. It's a date."


	7. Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony eyed the tiny room and the even smaller bed that took up most of the space inside. This wasn't so much a "safehouse" as it was a "safe closet" and considering he was stuck inside it with his ex, it didn't really feel safe at all. Steve, for his part, was studiously ignoring, well, everything.
> 
> Tony had handled a lot of awkward situations in his lifetime, from being the only six-year-old at his parents' grown-up parties, to the press following him on his first date, to working up the courage to ask Captain America out in the first place, but this took the cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-Breakup, Bed Sharing, Uncomfortable Conversations, Infidelity, Misunderstandings, Hopeful Ending.
> 
> Rated: M
> 
> For msermesth's stocking [here](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/773399.html) <3

Tony eyed the tiny room and the even smaller bed that took up most of the space inside. This wasn't so much a "safehouse" as it was a "safe closet" and considering he was stuck inside it with his ex, it didn't really feel safe at all. Steve, for his part, was studiously ignoring, well, everything.

Tony had handled a lot of awkward situations in his lifetime, from being the only six-year-old at his parents' grown-up parties, to the press following him on his first date, to working up the courage to ask Captain America out in the first place, but this took the cake.

"Well, this is awkward," he said, to break the tension. 

Steve winced, looking pained. He was perched on the end of the tiny bed. "I'll sleep on the floor," he muttered.

Tony eyed the tiny strip of wood flooring between the edge of the bed and the wall. "Like… under the bed?"

Steve's jaw twitched, hard and tense. "Whatever. I'll sleep in the damn bathtub.''

"This postage stamp doesn't even have a shower, Steve. It barely has a toilet."

Steve scrubbed his hands over his eyes, digging the heels in. "I'll sleep outside…"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Share the bed with me."

"We can take turns." Steve shuffled.

Tony waited until Steve looked up and met his eye. He swallowed heavily at the depth of blue and the depth of pain they contained. He had no right to be suffering that much, to be aching. He was the one that - Tony swallowed again. "We're grownups. We need to be fighting fit tomorrow. We share the bed - no arguments. I'll leave the armour on sentry duty by the door." It peeled back and he stepped out, shuffling around the tiny space until the armour was standing in front of the door, hands up. 

Steve fiddled with the edge of the shield for a moment, then tipped it to prop against the wall. "Okay."

And there he was, making it easy, and somehow that hurt too. Tony couldn't win, there was no getting out of this with his heart intact; either Steve was suffering and that didn't seem fair - that Tony should have to face any guilt for Steve's pain - or he wasn't, unaffected. Tony tugged his shirt off. It was sticky and sweaty, humid inside the tiny cabin, only added to by their body heat and breath.

Steve disappeared into the tiny bathroom, and reappeared in boxers and a t-shirt, face scrubbed pink. The echo of lost domesticity ached in Tony's chest, and he perched on the side of the bed and busied himself with his phone, downloading JARVIS' readouts on the suit's status and reviewing them for damage. The bed rocked and squeaked as Steve settled on the other side. 

Tony put it off as long as he could, but eventually he couldn't pretend anymore that he wasn't just idly scrolling, and he set his phone aside and flopped down on the bed beside Steve. It wasn't nostalgic; it had never been like this with them, the few inches of sheets between their arms a gaping chasm. He grabbed one of the meagre pillows and clutched it to his chest, blocking out the light from the arc reactor and plunging the room into darkness.

He tried not to think about Steve. Tony wandered through blueprints and plans, armour redesigns and weapons upgrades in his mind, but at the end of every path was a glaring neon  _ how about your ex, though?  _ sign. 

The bed shifted, stilted and controlled, and that wasn't how Steve slept, at least not when Tony had slept beside him, however briefly. "Are you asleep?" slipped out of his mouth before he could hold it back. 

"No." Steve's voice was twisted and rough, and Tony wished he still had the right to shift over him and ease an explanation out with kisses and cajoling and whatever it took. Instead he huffed out a frustrated sigh and Steve shifted on the bed again. "Tony I -"

Tony waited, but Steve didn't continue. "What?"

Steve squeaked the mattress as he rolled on his side. "I just - I've always wanted to ask… where did I go wrong? I understand if you don't want to talk about it when we're stuck here like this, but well, I never see you otherwise, out of the armour so… Yeah." He cleared his throat heavily.

"Where did you -?" Tony cut himself off, mouth hanging open. Sure, he'd never explained but he didn't think he  _ had  _ to. "Steve. You cheated on me. I - that's it. That's where you went wrong. You shouldn't have cheated on me. I wanted us to be monogamous - I was under the  _ impression  _ that we were. But you weren't. I wasn't okay with that."

The room fell silent for so long, Tony tugged the pillow away and bathed the room in soft, blue light. Steve was staring at him, wide eyed. "I didn't cheat on you."

"You did. I saw you."

"What? When? I -  _ what?" _ Steve kept spluttering for a moment, and Tony sat up, too vulnerable sprawled out on his back. Steve mirrored his position, the smallness of the space knocking their knees together as he moved.

"That SHIELD agent, Banks, at the holiday party." Tony tried to keep his voice steady, but he could feel it shaking.

"I - no, no, Tony. I never slept with her. What are you talking about?"

"You kissed her. By the punch bowl. I saw you do it."

Steve went very, very still. "Yes… she kissed me. But I didn't cheat on you. It never went any farther."

"That -" Tony rolled over to face him. "That _ is  _ cheating, Steve. We were together and you kissed someone else. I don't get it." Discomfort wriggled up Tony's spine like a snake, digging sharp fangs into the back of his neck. He hadn't wanted to talk about it before, hadn't given Steve the chance, and he didn't want to talk about it now. But it seemed it needed to come out.

"That's not… I - it was just a kiss. I get kissed all the time. I'm Captain America."

Tony's heart clenched in his chest. "I don't know what that means." And damn, would his voice please stop shaking? "I thought we had an agreement, an understanding. And I saw you violating that and that was it for me."

"Kissing isn't cheating. Not like that."

It was Tony's turn to splutter. "How can - yes of course it is. And most people would agree with me. Those who don't, have talked about it with their partners. That's the standard!"

Steve was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry…" he whispered. "I hope I can explain this right. I don't want you to think that I don't think it's fair that you feel that way, it is, I just - I woke up… and all the things that were important and special when I was growing up seemed artificial and fleeting now. And what little autonomy I'd managed in the army was gone - SHIELD made that clear from day one. They owned me, mind and body. I think I - it just - it doesn't feel the same. The one kiss I had with Peggy was important, and then in the future, I would go to these fundraising things and people would just kiss me, ask to take a picture with me on the street and kiss my cheek, hug me, touch my ass. I had this important moment, and it was like all the future wanted to do was make it meaningless. I guess I decided a lot of that kind of contact was meaningless.

"And I don't mean this in a judgemental way, Tony, I really don't, but you kind of seemed that way too. You like to touch people. When I met you, you liked to, you know, have a night with people. I… recalculated. Maybe I had to, because there didn't seem to be a way to get people to stop touching me. So I made it okay." He let out a shaky breath, but Tony stayed silent, waiting. There was more.

After a moment, Steve went on. "Then I  _ really  _ met you. Spent time with you, got to know you, the man behind the mask. Falling in love with you was like getting the serum. I feel like I came out of it a different person, with the good in me only improved for being tempered by you. I don't know if I ever told you how long I was in love with you before you asked me to go out. Maybe I never told you I loved you. I said it so many times in my head, I don't think I ever said it out loud."

Tony wasn't sure if he was shaking. He hoped he wasn't - there was no way Steve wouldn't be able to feel it, pressed close together like this. "You did… once. Quietly. I don't know if I was supposed to hear. I - I didn't say it back."

Steve turned towards him - Tony could feel the movement, though he kept his own gaze fixed on his hands. "No, I just - I want you to know. I know things are all messed up between us, but it's good to be loved, isn't it? I do love you, Tony. And I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you. It wasn't on purpose. I should have talked to you more, about what we were doing, because our life experiences couldn't possibly be more different and I should have known that we wouldn't have the same expectations. To me, it wasn't cheating. I never wanted to cheat on you, never would have agreed to anything I saw that way. But people touch me and kiss me and hug me a lot. I guess I thought you knew that, thought you got a lot of it too. So I assumed, that stuff like that, being kissed under the mistletoe at a party by a SHIELD agent who'd had a little too much to drink, I thought that was part of life. I'm sorry."

"So… all our kisses? Were they meaningless too?"

"No, no of course not. Those meant something to me. I wanted those. I  _ shared  _ those with you. It'd never been like that for me before, not in this century. It was incredible."

"I've been cheated on before," Tony managed to get out before his resolve failed him. "A few times, actually. And every time it was like, it was like having to rewrite the history of the relationship with the new knowledge that they didn't care about me as much as I did about them. I didn't want to do that with you, didn't know how. I couldn't erase the way you looked at me or those nights in my lab. So I just cut it off, cut it out. I didn't want to have a conversation where you said that what we had wasn't that big a deal, but it was the only direction I could see things going. I panicked - literally, had a panic attack - and bailed out hard. I couldn't make it make sense that you'd tell me you loved me and then kiss someone else."

Steve made a soft, pained noise. "I do love you, Tony. I think I always will. And I want you to be happy, even without me. I hope we can still -" He sighed heavily. "I don't know. Friends doesn't seem right. I hope we can still have lives that intersect." He paused. "That doesn't sound right either."

Tony's hand flicked out of its own accord and settled over Steve's, who startled, head whipping around, then gripped like he was sliding off a cliff. "I should have told you I loved you too," Tony said, breathless. "I should have asked about the party, about the kiss. I should have brought up a lot of things that I didn't. I'm sorry, too."

Silence settled again, but softer this time, more comfortable, and Tony felt the late hour pull at his eyelids. It felt like there was still a lot more to say, but no words to say them with.

"You should sleep," Steve eventually whispered into the night.

"You too." 

They both settled back down on their pillows, Tony reclaiming his hand though it itched to stay wrapped in Steve's. To his surprise, he did sleep.

He woke again only a few hours later, Steve's steady heat searing down his right side. And, god, he missed him so much. He missed his soft laughter, his humming in the shower, the way he cooked, the way he drew, his hands - Tony could go on forever. And it still hurt, even after Steve's explanation made it hard to be angry, hard to blame him, it still hurt. He stared at the ceiling in the dark and saw Steve grinning, someone else pressed up against in chest in the spot that should be Tony's, someone else kissing gingerale and cookies off his lips, eager fingers wrapped around his biceps. 

Tony could stay there forever, wallow in that, or he could let it go, dismiss it as easily as Steve had and start over. He rolled over, pressing bodily up against Steve, and he startled awake, Tony's name half falling from his lips before he steadied himself. 

"I'm okay," Tony said, shifting up and over until he straddled Steve's hips. 

Steve caught Tony's face in both hands and guided him down until their lips met. It was hot and sticky in the tiny room, wrapped in the messy sheets on the tiny bed, but they slipped together as easily as they ever had. Tony reclaimed Steve in fevered kisses down his jaw, his neck, across his chest, and Steve's hands flitted over Tony's skin, eager, overwhelmed, never settling in one place. 

"Tony -" Steve breathed, and Tony nipped at his skin and rolled his hips, wanting to hear his name said with such reverence again. And he did, over and over, as clothes were shed and Steve's hands finally settled, one wrapped around Tony's cock, one holding his hip like a lifeline. Tony rocked into Steve's hold, unabashedly breathing him in, fingers digging in with quickly-building desperation. When Tony broke, it only took a few more strokes of his hand, gripping Steve tightly, to bring him over the edge with him. They traded heavily panted breaths back and forth, sweat cooling on Tony's back, the sheets tangled around his ankles, boxers rumpled at his thighs.

Tony braced his elbows on the mattress and buried his face in Steve's chest; he smelled the same. "You okay?"

"Yes." Steve sounded wonderfully not okay, and Tony tightened his grip.

"I miss you."

Steve's fingers stroked up Tony's back then stilled, holding him close. "I miss you like crazy."

"I don't know if I can forget what it felt like to see you kiss her."

Steve breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. "Okay… Tony, was this a goodbye?" His soft voice was still too loud in the room. "I just - I need to know."

Tony traced the shape of Steve's shoulder bone with a shaky finger then slumped down, half on the mattress, half on his chest. "It doesn't feel like a goodbye," he admitted. 

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I know you didn't mean to." He huffed a hot breath across Steve's chest. "I forgive you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I needed."

Steve twisted in his arms until their eyes could meet. He glowed vivid blue in the light from Tony's heart. "Tell me now. What do you need?"

And it was the hardest and easiest thing in the world to say, "You. I need you. To be all mine."

"Then I'm all yours."


	8. Borrowed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'll give you five hundred dollars to pretend to be my date tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fake Dating, Party, No-Powers AU, Waiter!Steve, Tony!Tony, Flirting, Grand Theft Suit Jacket, Kiss.
> 
> Rated: T
> 
> For elimymoons stocking [here](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/776465.html) <3

"I'll give you five hundred dollars to pretend to be my date tonight."

Steve looked up sharply from where he was organizing glasses and coffee mugs to find Tony Stark leaning around the doorframe looking panicked. "Pardon?"

Mr. Stark looked over his shoulder then slipped inside the room. "I'll give you five hundred dollars to pretend to be my date tonight," he repeated, clearly speaking to Steve. There was no one else in the room. "A thousand."

Steve gaped at him. "Mr. Stark… I'm at work." He looked at the tray of glasses helplessly. 

"Oh good, you know who I am. That'll make this easier because you'll already be expecting me to be outrageous." He clapped his hands together. "Two thousand. Surely that's more than you'll make serving tonight. It'll be great. You were already expecting to smile at a bunch of rich idiots, but this way you get to eat the three hundred dollar canapes instead of just wafting them around on trays."

Steve rolled Mr. Stark's words through his mind, trying to figure out if he was being insulted or not. He wasn't entirely sure. "I can't just skip my shift, sir. I'll lose my job."

Mr. Stark waved a hand dismissively. "I'll talk to your boss. Nick and I go way back. Don't worry about it." His expression twisted with anxiety. "Please?"

"Why - why do you need to pay for a date? Can't you just… you know… stand still for more than five minutes? I'm sure you're like flypaper and hot men and women just -" Seve gestured towards him "- stick."

Mr. Stark snorted out a laugh. "Oh, I like you. Sure, I could have found a date. But my darling assistant and dear friend, Pepper, promised to come with me and then had the gall to get a cold. She's at home watching Game of Thrones and destroying a box of tissues, I'm sure. So I decided I'd go stag, but then when I arrived, I found out there are two people here that I really, really don't want to face alone." He shrugged sort of helplessly. "So… pretend? Just one night. It can be a first date so no one will think it's weird that we don't know anything about each other."

"Well, I actually know quite a bit about you," Steve said, before he could stop himself.

Mr. Stark's lips quirked up into a smirk. "Hmm, do you, now? All good things, I hope. Or very, very bad things. So does that mean you're in?"

Steve looked at the tray of glasses. It wasn't like he  _ wanted  _ to serve tonight, and even with a few tips from the diners, he still wouldn't make more than a couple hundred dollars. Mr. Stark was offering him two  _ thousand.  _ He'd be able to pay rent and all his bills and still have some left over. "Just - promise me this isn't some elaborate prank," he said, maybe too honestly. "I've had a rough couple months and I don't think I could handle that."

Mr. Stark's expression softened. He stepped a little closer. "Of course not. I'm serious. It'll actually be fun. Or at least, most people seem to have fun on dates with me. Here." He pulled a wad of bills out of his wallet and tucked them in Steve's pocket. "Half up front. All you have to do is hang prettily off my arm - which I'm sure you'll have no trouble managing - and maybe whine for a drink or dessert or something now and then when I want to get out of an annoying conversation. Also -" his cheeks pinked a little "- wouldn't hurt if you wanted to make my ex a bit jealous but that's neither here nor there." Mr. Stark sized him up. "Do you have a jacket?"

Steve looked down at his crisp white button up and vest. "I'm a waiter, Mr. Stark…" He didn't even own a suit jacket.

"Well. Good thing it's black." Mr. Stark took his hand and lead him out of the back room and down the hall. "And first thing's first -" he stopped suddenly and turned so they were nearly chest to chest "- my dates usually call me Tony." He winked, and a hot flush rushed up the back of Steve's neck.

"O-ok." Steve cleared his throat. "Tony."

Tony shot him a dazzling smile. "Sounds good when you put it like that." He dipped to the side and popped into a room where long lines of coats where hung up. He sized up Steve for a moment then darted between the hangers, coming back with a black suit jacket. He pressed it to Steve's chest then shook his head, disappearing between the coats again.

"Mr. Sta- Tony. We can't steal someone's jacket." Steve found himself laughing despite himself. If someone had asked him what he thought the eccentric, playboy billionaire would be like, this was not what he would have guessed. 

"Borrow, Mr. - ah." He reappeared from between the coast, holding another jacket. "Sorry. Your name?"

"Steve. Steve Rogers." 

Tony held out a hand. "Tony. Nice to meet you, Steve."

"Likewise."

"Is it? Nice is probably not the word most people would use." He winked again and offered Steve the jacket. 

Steve pulled it on, feeling like he ought to protest, but not really sure what to say. Tony was paying him two thousand dollars to follow him around tonight, and if they got in trouble, even though he barely knew him, he couldn't help feeling like Tony wouldn't make him take the heat. Sam was always telling him to live a little. This was probably not what he meant, but, well, it was fun.

"Alright. Here we go." Tony led the way towards the ballroom.

"Oh! Who's your ex?"

"What?"

"You said I should make your ex jealous." Steve took Tony's proffered arm and smiled at him. "I need to know my target."

"Okay, Rambo." Tony snorted. "I'll point him out when we get in."

Steve hesitated by the door. "I've been to so many of these things as a server, never as a guest…"

Tony patted his hand and tugged him closer. "Just stick with me. I won't abandon you, I promise."

Steve believed him. And Tony lived up to that belief. It was surprisingly easy to fall in place beside him, and Steve didn't know if that was because he was a better actor than he thought, or because Tony made it easy. He was handed an endless stream of food and drink, avoiding the eyes of the other servers who might recognize him. Tony introduced him with lavish praise, doted on him all night, and never let him trip into uncomfortable conversation territory.

Not knowing Tony, Steve couldn't be sure, but it seemed like the challenge of pulling one over on the other guests with Steve was delighting him, and he kept shooting Steve these private, secret smiles that made Steve's stomach leap with butterflies. It was fun, which he hadn't expected. 

At one point, Steve found himself at Tony's side, in conversation with Mr. Hammer. Tony was leaning back out of the man's space, twisting his body towards Steve instead and hunching over his drink. 

"I had a chance to buy the original Windowless Room," Hammer drawled, eyes fixed on Tony like he was expecting him to be impressed, "but I don't think it's from Fraggiolo's best period, so I passed on it. Got a new Ferrari inst-"

"Actually," Steve piped up, cutting off the man's monologue, "Windowless Room was painted by Elena Franconi, not Alfredo Fraggiolo. And it's definitely from her best period, but frankly, I'm of the opinion that her entire career was her best period."

Hammer coughed and huffed then suddenly found someone who needed his immediate attention across the ballroom. Tony turned to Steve with a wide grin. "You are a treasure."

Steve's cheeks heated and he ducked his gaze to his drink."Art student," he stammered, by way of explanation.

Whenever Tony's ex looked their way, Steve slipped his arm around Tony's waist, leaned in closer, whispered and laughed, and Tony looked genuinely delighted every time. It was easy to get sucked into the giddy fun of it all. 

After coffee and dessert, Steve stepped away to go to the bathroom and came back to find Tony sitting at their table, alone, drink in hand. There was something soft and beautiful and honest about his expression as he gazed out towards the stage, and Steve's stomach filled with butterflies again. He crossed the room and slipped his hand into Tony's field of view. "May I have this dance?"

Tony looked up at him and smiled, taking his hand and rising even as he said, "You don't have to do that."

"I'm not a very good dancer," Steve admitted as they stepped out onto the floor.

"That's alright." Tony tugged him close and Steve fell easily into his hold. "I'll lead."

Tony spun them around the floor easily, holding Steve close and keeping him from tripping into the path of other dancers. They danced through two songs, shifting closer and closer together. When the second song ended, Tony stilled them and stepped back; Steve let him go reluctantly. It hadn't been real, but Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a nice night.

"It's getting late. Can I drive you home?" Tony offered quietly, and Steve nodded.

They returned Steve's borrowed jacket to the cloak room and ran down the front steps to the waiting limo, hand in hand and laughing. The car ride was quiet, the two of them sitting close enough that their arms touched in the back of the limo. When the car slowed outside of Steve's building, Tony followed him out onto the street and walked him up to the front door. 

"Thank you." Tony shot him a brilliant grin. 

"No… thank you. I honestly had a really nice time tonight."

"Me too. You're something else, Steve Rogers."

"You're…" Steve grinned. "Not what I would have expected."

Tony's eyes flicked down to Steve's lips, and Steve wobbled closer, drawn in towards Tony's gravity. The kiss was soft and quick, just a light press together, and then it was over. Tony cleared his throat and pulled out his wallet. "Other half…" he muttered, cheeks pinking, but Steve reached out and stilled his hand.

"Or…"

"Or?" The surprised hope there gave Steve the strength to go on.

"Or you spend it on our second date?" Steve offered breathlessly. 

Tony's eyes went wide. "Really?"

"Really. If you want to. I had a really good time tonight. Love to know what it's like for real."'

And if Steve thought he'd seen a real smile from Tony at the party night, it was nothing to the wide grin he sported at Steve's words. "Amazing. I'd love to." Tony sighed softly and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. "I'm really glad I met you tonight, Steve."

"I'm really glad I met you, too. Grand theft suit jacket, notwithstanding."

Tony laughed. "Borrowed. But don't worry, I would have made our bail." He reached out and took Steve's hand, smoothing his thumb over the back. "So, uh, Saturday? Seven?"

"Perfect."

Tony smiled, leaned in to kiss Steve's cheek, then trotted back down the stairs to his waiting car. Steve watched him go, a goofy grin no doubt plastered across his face. That had been the oddest night of his life. And he was excited for so many more to come.


	9. Sweetener

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That's not what we agreed on!" Tony squeezed the phone and grit his teeth together to keep from cracking the screen. "No. Look, _no._ I don't care. That's it. My time for this bullshit is all used up. Talk to your people, and we'll sort this out another time. I'm too busy." He hung up and tossed the phone on his desk, feeling some grim satisfaction in the way it skittered across the glass and knocked over his pen cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sugar, Treats, Affection, Frustrated Tony, Sweet Steve, First Kiss.
> 
> Rated: T
> 
> For ashes0909's stocking [here](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/773964.html) <3333 xoxoxooxoxo

"That's not what we agreed on!" Tony squeezed the phone and grit his teeth together to keep from cracking the screen. "No. Look,  _ no. _ I don't care. That's it. My time for this bullshit is all used up. Talk to your people, and we'll sort this out another time. I'm too busy." He hung up and tossed the phone on his desk, feeling some grim satisfaction in the way it skittered across the glass and knocked over his pen cup. 

Still fuming, Tony flicked one of the spilled pens off the end of the desk with his fingers. It sailed past his uneaten salad; his assistant had brought him exactly what he'd asked for and yet somehow it was still all wrong, bitter and sour. He'd taken two bites and abandoned it. But he was still hungry and now he was angry too, and if this day wanted to end any minute now, he'd be heartily grateful.

The next pen bounced off the edge of his monitor and a small noise came from the doorway. Tony snapped to attention, opening his mouth to snap at whichever junior-junior department head thought they could waste his time with mundane shit, but it wasn't an SI employee standing there.

It was Steve.

He was looking almost bashful, hovering in the doorway with a small, white cardboard box in his hands. When Tony's eyes dropped to it, Steve flicked it towards his side like he was moving to hide it.

"Steve? Hey. Sorry." Tony waved towards the phone, in case Steve had heard any of that. 

"No, I'm sorry." Steve kept hovering. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's fine." Tony summoned a smile. "Come on in." He stood up and leaned on the edge of his desk so Steve didn't have to tower awkwardly over him. 

"Yeah, so -" Steve took a step closer. "I was walking nearby and there's a new bakery on the corner, by the hot dog stand? So, uh, I couldn't resist. I got you a treat. But it seems like a bad time, so I'll just -" Steve placed the box on the desk and turned back towards the door.

Tony lifted the lid and nestled inside on a paper doily was a large, iced brownie with a dusting of powdered sugar on top. The smell of chocolate poured out of the box, and Tony's mouth watered. It looked amazing. 

The door creaked. "Wait," Tony called, and Steve stilled. "Aren't you going to stay?"

Steve hesitated. "You seem really busy."

Tony picked up the brownie and two forks from the drawer behind his desk and settled on the couch. He patted the spot next to him and held out one of the forks. "Never too busy for you."

Steve beamed, but he kept twitching his smile back under control like he was holding it back. He sat on the other end of the couch, and Tony set the box between them. He peeled off the first bite and let it melt on his mouth, dense rich chocolate, buttery and smooth, coating his tongue. "Oh my god," he moaned. "That is so good."

Steve stuck his fork in as well. His eyes went wide then softened in pleasure as he chewed. "Wow." He swallowed. "It really is."

And suddenly, Tony couldn't help himself anymore. He couldn't imagine ever wanting anything more than he wanted Steve. They'd been flirting and standing too close beside each other for weeks now, but Tony  _ wanted,  _ and he wouldn't wait any longer.

He leaned forward, over the box, and pressed their lips together. Steve startled, but his hand snapped up to Tony's jaw and held him tight, pushing the kiss deeper. Tony licked the chocolate from his tongue, all the tension and frustration of the day melting away. 

When they finally parted, they were both grinning, neither moving far away. Tony reached up and brushed his thumb over Steve's lower lip.

"Today really sucked," Tony said softly.

Steve covered Tony's hand with his own, wound their fingers together. "I'm sorry."

"You made it all better. You make everything sweet again."

Steve set the box aside and drew Tony forward, against his chest. Tony ignored the ringing of his phone, the stressed-out voice of his assistant in the next room, he forgot about the brownie completely, as he brought their lips together again and indulged in his sugary treat. 


	10. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve hiked the strap of his enormous portfolio further up over his slim shoulder and kept shuffling down the snow-covered hill. His foot slipped, heel digging into the ice and his free arm pinwheeled, steadying himself out. His heart leapt in his chest, pounding painfully and threatening an asthma attack. It was a stupid shortcut to take, especially alone, but it saved him an hour, walking up and over the train tracks instead of going all the way around to the bridge. And an hour was a lot when his ma was waiting at home for him to make dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Serum Steve, No-Powers AU, Meet Cute, Broken Wrist, Soulmate AU, Financial Stress, White Knight Tony.
> 
> Rated: T
> 
> For Nostalgicatsea's stocking [here](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/762721.html) <3

Steve hiked the strap of his enormous portfolio further up over his slim shoulder and kept shuffling down the snow-covered hill. His foot slipped, heel digging into the ice and his free arm pinwheeled, steadying himself out. His heart leapt in his chest, pounding painfully and threatening an asthma attack. It was a stupid shortcut to take, especially alone, but it saved him an hour, walking up and over the train tracks instead of going all the way around to the bridge. And an hour was a lot when his ma was waiting at home for him to make dinner. 

Taking exceptional care, Steve worked his way down the hill, finally breathing a sigh of relief when his feet hit solid ground. He started trudging along the field towards the parking lot behind the corner store. The snow was deep - even deeper for a guy who barely came up to a flea's armpit - and he let his mind wander to his latest art project to keep his focus away from the ache in his muscles from lugging his huge portfolio case. 

When he finally hit the edge of the field, Steve stepped over the parking barrier, knocking snow off his boots, and landed right on a patch of black ice. With a yelp, he went ass over tea kettle, landing hard with his elbow on the portfolio, his other arm reaching out stupidly to catch himself. Pain radiated up his arm to his shoulder, hot and unforgiving, and he curled up on the pavement with a whimper, his portfolio falling away. 

"Holy shit, are you okay?!" came a voice from across the parking lot.

"I'm fine! Go away," Steve rumbled, trying not to squeak. The pain in his arm wasn't lessening. Two feet appeared by his head then crumpled down into knees. A hand landed on his back.

"You're hurt."

"I -" Steve sat up, the backs of his eyes prickling with a combination of frustration and pain. "Maybe." Even he couldn't deny the shocks of red hot pain from wrist to elbow. He tried to close a fist and yelped. "I think it's broken." He groaned. At least it was his left so he could still draw, but how on earth was he going to afford a cast? Or x-rays?

The man by his side already had his phone out and was talking to 911. "Yes. Yes. Okay." He turned to Steve. "Can I see it?"

Steve held out his wrist, jacket pulled up, but he looked at the man's face instead of at his own arm, not wanting to see if the bone was doing something horrible. And sure enough, the man's face twisted into shock then was carefully schooled back to a calm neutral. 

"No, no it's not," he said into the phone. "Yes, I'll go to the street to wave them down. Okay." He hung up the phone and knelt by Steve again. "I'm going to go wait for the ambulance. They're on their way."

"Oh god," Steve moaned. He was going to need to take out another loan…

Apparently mistaking his financial fear for pain, the man landed a gentle hand on his other shoulder. "You'll be okay," he said softly.

"Thank you," Steve grumbled, because his ma didn't raise him to be rude, even when his whole world was crumbling down. 

The man headed for the road, and Steve was left alone with his own despair. He'd have to pay for the ambulance ride, the x-rays, the cast, probably a million other things. He could skip the painkillers, but that'd hardly make a dent. And then he'd have to take some time off work, which would make the problem even worse. He'd have to ask Mrs. Phillips next door to help with his ma, and he'd already asked her twice that month when he'd had to work late. It was a nightmare.

"You're such an idiot," he muttered to himself.

After only a few minutes, the ambulance appeared, the kind man jogging in front of it as it trundled around the building and came to a stop by his side. The paramedics were all nice enough, but even the shot of painkillers they gave him didn't do much to allay his foul mood. 

They helped him up into the back, and to his surprise, the man climbed up with him and took a seat. "I'm Tony, by the way," he said.

"Steve." Steve clutched his bad arm to his chest with the good. Tony was still carrying his portfolio. "I'd shake your hand, but…"

Tony snorted with laughter and it warmed Steve from the inside, chasing a little of the pain away. Steve was glad he'd come, as odd as that was. He didn't even know this guy, but it was nice not to be alone. 

"Thank you for your help."

"No problem." Tony flushed a bit, dropping his eyes to the portfolio. "You seem kinda stressed, beyond, well, the broken bone. Are you alright?"

Steve half-shrugged. "It's just my ma. She was waiting at home for me to make dinner. She - uh - she's sick so sometimes when it's really bad she needs me to take care of her.  I have a neighbour I can ask for help, but…" he trailed down into a small voice "- I've asked her a lot already this month."

"I could order her some takeout? Can she answer the door? No matter, I'll have Happy bring it over, then he can set it up for her." He was already typing on his phone.

"What?"

"What's your address? Is there something I can tell her so she knows it's from you?"

"But - what? No, no, you don't have to do that. It's okay."

"Please? It'll torture me knowing your mom's at home, hungry, when it's such an easy fix. What does she like best?"

"Um… Chinese?" Steve rattled off his address. "I'll pay you back as soon as I can." He winced at another bill, but what else could he do? Tony was right, he couldn't let his mom starve. 

"Oh, don't be silly," Tony said with a snort. He dialed a number, shooting Steve a heart-stopping smirk - and wow, maybe the meds were finally kicking in because a rush of pleasant warmth washed through Steve at that - then broke into what sounded to Steve's untrained ear like perfect Mandarin. He was on the phone for way too long, and what seemed like it must be a mountain of food later, he hung up. "All set. I texted Happy. He'll pick it up and bring it to your place. There should be lots of leftovers in case you get stuck at the hospital. Do you want me to call your mom and warn her?"

"Uh, yes, please. She'll be worried. If you could just -" Steve gestured towards his pocket. "You can put it on speakerphone."

Tony winked as he dug around in Steve's pocket, and it made Steve smile and shake his head. Tony dialed the number under "Ma" and held it up to Steve's mouth. Steve played things down dramatically, not wanting to upset his ma, but she still sighed heavily at the news that he was on the way to the hospital. He reassured her as best as he could, Tony politely turning away and pretending poorly that he couldn't hear the awkward conversation. So now his handsome white knight knew Steve was a) clumsy, b) stupid, and c) poor. Humiliating.

Tony tucked his phone away, just as they pulled up in front of the hospital. "Oh no," Steve said. "There's no way I can afford this. I thought we would go to County?"

"It's okay," Tony stepped out of the back and let the paramedics help Steve down, settling him in a wheelchair. "I have a plan."

Anxiety churned Steve's gut as they wheeled into the hospital, Tony bizarrely still at his side. Steve wanted to tell him he could go, but he was also desperate to hear Tony's plan. The man was in an extremely expensive suit - sadly covered in slush and salt from kneeling at Steve's side - and he had the fanciest phone Steve had ever seen. Maybe he had some pull or something, to lower Steve's costs. Maybe he was a doctor. Steve had to hope, though he also had to wonder. And he was still carrying Steve's portfolio. God, if Steve made it through today without exploding from sheer embarrassment, he'd never be able to see this guy again, and he already owed him big for everything so far. Maybe he could paint him something as a thank you. It was all he had to give.

They approached the desk and the triage nurse handed over a clipboard with a form on it. The paramedics abandoned them to their fate, and Tony took a pen and settled into a chair, rolling Steve up beside him. "You don't have to stay," Steve said. "You've already done too much."

"Humour me." He hovered the pen over the paper. "Full name?"

"Steven Grant Rogers."

Tony worked his way through the form with Steve until they reached the insurance portion at the bottom. Tony's pen paused. 

"I don't have any," Steve said softly. "This is… this is not going to be good." A knot tightened in his throat, and he bit his lip hard because he wasn't going to cry on a stranger in the ER. 

"Uh, actually… you do."

Steve blinked at Tony. "I don't."

"You do. Because I have some of the best insurance money can buy and… well… there's a provision -" he cleared his throat "- for soulmates."

Steve opened his mouth but no words would come out. A thread of memory floated back to him.  _ Holy shit, are you okay?!  _ His words. But he'd heard them so many times throughout his life - always prone to hurting himself, getting a black eye in a fight, or having an asthma attack in the grocery store, that they'd stopped giving his heart a little flutter each time. 

"I saw your words when I was looking at your wrist for the dispatcher to make sure you weren't bleeding. Sorry. I - I probably should have said something, but I figured you already had a lot going on. I thought we might get a minute alone, once you were settled in a room, but I didn't think about the insurance thing. But don't worry! You're totally covered. It's automatic and immediate once you bond. So you have insurance. A lot of it. And also half of several hundred billion dollars so even if you didn't suddenly have insurance, you'd be able to afford it." Tony hiked up the sleeve of his suit, and Steve saw,  _ I'm fine. Go away,  _ scrawled there in rough cursive. 

"Oh my god." He looked back up at Tony's warm, brown eyes and felt that flicker in his chest burn a little brighter. "You - oh. Wow. This is a lot, sorry."

Tony chuckled. "It's okay. I know. That's why I was hoping we'd have a chance to talk, but I had to settle." He held up the clipboard, his own information penned into the insurance section:  _ Tony Stark _ . "Can I drop this at triage so we can get you a room?"

Steve nodded. The sudden release of nearly thirty years of worrying about money flying off his shoulders made him lightheaded and left only the deep, intense flush of finding his soulmate behind. This was it. He'd always wondered, wondered if he'd be one of those that didn't meet them until he was ninety-seven, if at all, but hoped he'd be the lucky one that found his young. But the hope had faded, over the years, when so many people said his words, but he didn't say theirs. And now this amazing man - this kind, gorgeous, funny, generous man - was all his? "I get to keep you?" He said stupidly, when Tony came back. 

Tony grinned, bright and wide. He brushed a knuckle over Steve's cheek. "You do. Forever. God, Steve, I've wanted this for so long. And you - you're -"

"A hot mess?"

"Incredible. Is this your art? Are you an artist? I've been dying to open this since the ambulance." He patted the portfolio.

Steve laughed, gesturing him on. "Yeah. I mean, no. I'm not. But I want to be. I'm a waiter, right now."

Tony unzipped the top of the portfolio and peeked inside. "Not anymore…" he muttered idly, then his head snapped up. "I mean, unless you want to! I wasn't saying, like, you have to stop working. Just that you could. If you wanted to. Focus on your art. We can build you a studio."

"I - Uh. How strong was that shot they gave me? I feel like everything is… crazy."

Tony leaned in closer. "Me too." He winked. He didn't move away, beaming at Steve like there was no one else in the room, and really, maybe there wasn't, Steve couldn't look away to find out if they'd all disappeared. 

"Um, so I'm hurt," Steve said softly. "And they're going to have to do all these horrible things to get my wrist back together." Tony nodded indulgently. "Kiss for good luck?" Steve couldn't breathe.

"Thought you'd never ask," Tony murmured. He leaned in and pressed their lips softly together and fireworks went off in Steve's chest, rattling between his heart and his lungs and bursting into starbursts behind his eyes. His wrist didn't hurt anymore - nothing could hurt, everything was perfect. "I hope you're into overprotective guys because I'm going to stay with you until you're released and then take you home and stay with you until you're better and probably spend that entire time trying to convince you to move in with me. And your mom of course. I have an in-law suite attached to my penthouse unit and we can hire full-time nursing care. God, I hope she likes me. Actually, apparently I'm going to start trying to get you to move in with me before we're even out of the hospital. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Geez, Tony." Steve reached out with his good hand and wound their fingers together. He had his  _ soulmate.  _ Finally. They were together. His heart had never felt so full. "I'm just - I'm overwhelmed. I never thought this would happen. Also, I honestly think that whatever they gave me is starting to kick in cause… um… swirly…"

Tony laughed lightly and pressed another warm kiss to Steve's cheek. "Just relax for now. You're okay. I've got you." He looked at his phone. "And Happy is apparently getting his ass kicked by your mom at chess while they eat chow mein, so we're all good there too."

Steve must have still been awake when the nurse came and helped him up to a room, and he had a vague recollection of a doctor talking to him about surgery, but he didn't really feel himself again until he woke a few hours later in a hospital bed. At first, he panicked. His Ma was alone, and the fear for the money rushed in, one step ahead of his memories. But then - Tony.

He half sat up then stilled when he realized Tony was still there, his suit jacket off and folded over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up, and sprawled like a puddle across the side of Steve's bed, one hand resting possessively on Steve's ankle, the other lying next to his phone. His chest rose and fell softly, eyes shut and mouth slack. 

Steve stared at him for a long time, heart full to bursting. He wished his wrist wasn't broken because he'd always imagined how he'd throw himself in the arms of his soulmate, hold him close, breathe him in. But that would have to wait. 

Wondering what time it was, Steve pushed the button on Tony's phone and it woke up to a text screen for someone called "Pep <3". Steve couldn't help catching the last page of texts as he checked the time. He turned the phone over, not wanting to snoop, but he couldn't help grinning to himself. Somehow, falling and breaking his wrist was turning out to be the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

_ Tony: I know! I can't believe it. And he's amazing. Smart and hot and funny. And talented! I looked at some of his art and holy shit. You'd love it.  _

_ Tony: He sort of said he'd move in with me but he was also high on morphine at the time so we can't be sure he meant it. _

_ Tony: But I really, really hope he meant it.  _

_ Tony: Cause I can't wait to spend the rest of my life getting to know him. _

_ Pep <3: I'm so happy for you, Tony. So happy. _

_ Tony: Me too. I don't think I've ever been happier. He's perfect. _


	11. Knelt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve rapped lightly on the door, shooting another look towards the main office entrance. An irritated grunt from inside had Steve slipping inside, shutting the door behind him.
> 
> "Steve?" Tony looked up from his desk, painfully attractive reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. Behind the glasses, there were dark circles under his eyes, pinched in at the corner, and his fingers were tapping a rapid pattern on the tablet in front of him.
> 
> "Hey, sweetheart," Steve said, smiling as alluringly as he could manage. The seduction thing was always Tony's game, but at least he had something else to offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D/s, Porn, Cockwarming, Office Sex, Semi-Public Sex, sub!Steve, Dom!Tony.
> 
> Rated: E
> 
> For willidothefandango's stocking [here](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/772494.html) <3

Steve rapped lightly on the door, shooting another look towards the main office entrance. An irritated grunt from inside had Steve slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. 

"Steve?" Tony looked up from his desk, painfully attractive reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. Behind the glasses, there were dark circles under his eyes, pinched in at the corner, and his fingers were tapping a rapid pattern on the tablet in front of him. 

"Hey, sweetheart," Steve said, smiling as alluringly as he could manage. The seduction thing was always Tony's game, but at least he had something else to offer. 

But Tony frowned. "Did I -? I'm sorry. Did I forget about lunch… or something? I - Hannah! -  _ murph!" _

Steve slapped his hand over Tony's mouth to cut him off then winced. "Don't call Hannah. Please." He smirked enticingly, trying to let his raised eyebrow speak for itself, and Tony squinted at him from behind his hand. "I snuck in while she was at the coffee machine. You didn't miss lunch, it's two in the afternoon, babe."

Tony kissed Steve's palm, and Steve released him. He peered up at Steve. "You're smiling so I assume you're not here for something bad. Unless it's one of those things that's so bad that you smile to try and lull me into a false sense of security, oh god, who's dead and why are you breaking up with me?"

Steve snorted. "No, Tony. It's not bad. At least, I hope you won't think so…" He shot another glance towards the closed door then dropped to his knees, folding his hands in his lap. He looked up at Tony, took a breath, then licked his lips. "I thought I could help you get through the day."

Tony swallowed heavily, eyes darkening as they fixed on Steve at his feet. "Did you now..?" he drawled, the tension evaporating from his expression, replaced with hunger. "So no one knows you're here?" he asked, clearly catching on.

"No one. I'm just here for you."

"Shit, Steve. Come here."

Steve shuffled across the floor on his knees until he was pressed up against Tony's calves. Tony spread his legs and let Steve tuck between them. His fingers raked Steve's hair back, digging in just a little. 

"Here for me?"

Steve closed his eyes, focused on Tony's touch. "You've been working too hard lately. I thought maybe I could make today a bit easier, a bit better." Steve stroked his palms up Tony's thighs.

"A bit? Fuck, baby, just being here at all makes it a hundred times better." Tony bent forward and used two fingers under his chin to draw Steve into a deep kiss. "You on your knees?…. Incalculable."

"I just want to make you feel good." Steve inched his fingers towards Tony's belt, rucking up his pristine suit pants. 

Tony hummed with pleasure and leaned back in his chair, his hands falling to the armrests. His custom leather shoes curling behind Steve's ass and tugging him even closer. 

A light knock rapped on the door and both men jumped into action, shuffling Steve under Tony's large desk. Steve's heart pounded in his chest. The desk was glass, but Tony could make any panel of it display whatever he wanted at any moment. Steve gaze up at Tony, tucked between his legs and under the desk and trusted that his back wasn't visible to whoever was opening the door right now.

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony's pen tapped on the desk over Steve's head. "Mm?"

"Just a reminder about the department heads conference at four pm, Mr. Aptly has ten minutes at four thirty, and Pepper needs the SR-76 forms signed and labelled by eight."

"Okay. Thank you, Hannah. Did we hear from Hong Kong yet?"

Steve set to work on Tony's fly while they continued to talk and smiled when Tony shuffled further under the desk, pressing his legs tightly to Steve's sides. He thanked Tony's laundry for providing him with boxers that day, undoing the button and easing Tony's cock out. 

There was a satisfying twitch of Tony's legs when Steve slipped his lips over the head and sucked softly. Steve worked his way down, feeling Tony's cock throbbing full against his tongue, until his nose hit the soft skin of Tony's belly. He swallowed and Tony gasped, his foot pressing almost painfully tight against Steve's calf. 

"Okay, Hannah, thank you."

"You're welcome, Mr. Stark."

The door opened and closed again and Tony groaned, his chair groaning with him as he leaned back, eyes fixed hungrily on Steve. "You going to stay down there and keep me warm while I work, sweetheart?"

Steve nodded carefully, trying to project what an absolute pleasure it would be for him to take care of Tony's cock for the rest of the day.

"Alright. God, you're incredible." Tony scrapped his fingers over Steve's scalp the sat up again, slowly, settling Steve back into position. Steve could hear the tapping of Tony's fingers on his keyboard, over his head.

Tony was fully hard now, heavy and firm between Steve's lips, but Steve made no move to push him further. He let out a slow breath through his nose and bit-by-bit, let go of the tension in his body.

Tony's legs hugged him tight, and he folded his arms over Tony's thighs so he could hang, limp, over them. He closed his eyes and burrowed into Tony's skin, his cock as deep as he could take it. Tony smelled like Steve's coconut body wash from their shared shower that morning, sweat and skin and motor oil, that little bit of grease monkey Steve could always find under everything else. His cock was the perfect weight on Steve's tongue, heavy, and just enough stretch that his jaw would ache pleasantly later. His whole body would ache, every knot and cramp a memory of being good for his lover. 

And, god, it was so good. Before long, his knees burned, shoulders begging to be rolled out and his jaw throbbed. The back of his throat itched, saliva building around Tony's cock and dripping over his lips. He felt so full, so filled up - and useful, used. There was no better use for him than providing Tony pleasure.

Tony rapped his fingers on the glass desktop then started talking. Steve flicked his eyes up, but the glass was opaque now. 

"Good morning!" Tony laughed lightly and made pleasantries. He was on a conference call, likely several screens from several time zones scattered across his desk. And they'd be able to see the flush crawling up his chest, maybe hear the slight hitch to his breathing when Steve shifted or tried to swallow. But they wouldn't know he was down here, hidden under the glass.

He couldn't help thinking about what would happen if Tony made the glass clear again, if they saw him. They'd stare at his lips, stretched wide around Tony's cock, pink with exertion and wet with spit. They'd gasp and tut and Steve's skin would inflame with humiliation, but he wouldn't move. He wouldn't pull away until Tony gave him permission, even with all those eyes burning holes in the back of his neck. 

Steve's cock throbbed between his legs, suddenly no longer ignorable. He shifted his legs wide, tucked tightly between Tony's thighs and breathed steadily through his nose, sinking into the safety and security of Tony's smell, of the weight of his cock pressing at the edge of uncomfortable in his throat. This was where he belonged; nothing else mattered.

Above him, the conference call ended, and Tony went back to ticking quietly at his keyboard, occasionally humming to himself or repeating a number out loud. Steve could hear the soft dings of incoming emails, the tap of Tony's fingers, and the occasional scratch of a pen, but they were all distant background noise, giving way to the steady thump of his own heartbeat, matching the throb of the vein in Tony's cock as it softened a little and rehardened in Steve's mouth as time dragged on.

Steve was startled when Tony's hand landed on the side of his face, the first acknowledgment from him besides small bucks of his hips in many hours. 

"Sweetheart?" Tony inched back a little to draw Steve's head out from under the desk. "I'm done work for now."

Steve shifted his gaze towards the windows and saw it was dark out now, late. 

"I'm going to fuck your face and then we can go home. Can you take it?"

He nodded and sucked a little, rolling his tongue around the head, his jaw creaking and aching with being held open so long.

"God, you're perfect," Tony mused. He eased back, inch by inch, letting Steve suck in air and groan around the release of the abused joint. When he slipped free, he rubbed his fingers at the hinge of Steve's jaw and let him pant and stretch, rolling out the pain. 

The serum took care of the discomfort quickly, though, and after only a moment, Steve had his mouth open again, tongue out, eyes tipped up towards Tony.

"So good." Tony fed his cock into Steve's mouth then grabbed a handful of his hair. He thrust in roughly, the sharp pains of being used in delicious contrast to the long ache of the afternoon. Steve moaned and drooled and went limp in Tony's hold, his cock begging for attention, hot and heavy where it pressed against his thigh, trapped in his pants. It wasn't long before Tony gripped harder and shoved Steve all the way down on his cock, nose pushed into his stomach, cock pulsing hot down Steve's throat. "Ah, fuck -" his legs shook as he came down, releasing Steve and helping ease him back.

Steve swallowed then licked Tony clean, reveling in the musky, bitter taste of him. "Thank you," he managed to croak, and Tony purred, stroking him everywhere he could reach. 

"So perfect. Thank you, Steve. You made a long, hard day bearable."

Steve smiled dopily up at him, and Tony urged him up to his feet then kissed him, surely able to taste himself on Steve's lips. 

Tony grabbed a handful of Steve's aching cock and squeezed gently. He drew Steve down to his shoulder and cupped the back of his head, whispering in his ear, "Come home with me gorgeous and we'll take care of that. I'll give you the reward you deserve for being such a good boy."


	12. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve rolled his shoulder out which slid him further down the wooden headboard until he was a slovenly heap on the hotel sheets. He didn't mind attending these meetings as a representative of the Avengers, but traveling took a lot out of him, and it was hard to want to do anything more than slouch around in bed and read or watch TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love confessions, Fluff, Love.
> 
> Rated: T
> 
> For summerpipedream's stocking [here](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/747745.html) <3

Steve rolled his shoulder out which slid him further down the wooden headboard until he was a slovenly heap on the hotel sheets. He didn't mind attending these meetings as a representative of the Avengers, but traveling took a lot out of him, and it was hard to want to do anything more than slouch around in bed and read or watch TV.

But the remote was on the other side of the bed, and his book was still in his bag, so Steve stared up at the ceiling and idly thought about home: the work he had waiting for him, the croissants he missed from the cafe around the corner, being back in the right time zone...

A knock on the door startled him out of his daydreams. His room service, finally. "Come in!" he called out, blushing a little at his laziness, but he tipped well, and it was nice to have someone else fawn over you a bit sometimes.

But the door didn't open right away, rattling and clicking for a moment, and Steve sat up, on high alert now, his danger signals starting to warm up. He was just about to stand and reach for the shield, when the door popped open. "Tony?"

"Hey, Cap!" Tony waved from the doorway, looked up and down the hall once, then slid in, closing the door behind him.

Steve stared. "How did you get in?"

Tony waved his phone vaguely. "You said, 'come in.'"  

"Well, I thought you were room service and you'd have a key!"

"I always have a key." He grinned but it was pinched at the edges, uncertain.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were back home. Why are you in Germany? Was there an assemble? I -" Steve reached for his phone. He'd had it right beside him and hadn't heard anything.

"No! No, no." Tony huffed a breath, twined his fingers together and added, "No, no," almost as an afterthought.

Steve narrowed his eyes at him, pushing up off the bed and crossing his arms across his chest. Tony was off. " You flew all the way here? What's wrong then?"

"It's not an emergency. I mean, not that kind of emergency. I did, I flew here. Because I got it in my head and then I figured - you know - I should just - but it's not an emergency. Well. Sort of. No, it's really not. It could have waited. Probably… should have…"

"Tony."

He snapped his mouth shut and looked distinctly distressed.

"Come here." Steve guided him over to the second queen bed and sat him down on the edge, then perched opposite, a few inches between their knees. "Tell me what's wrong."

Tony took a deep breath, opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. "There's something I have to tell you. And when I decide to do something, I don't do it halfway. I decided I just had to come here and rip the bandaid off."

Hot anxiety flushed through Steve's veins, drawing heat up to the back of his neck. That didn't sound good. Emergency conversations that couldn't wait rarely seemed to be good, in his experience.

"So, I'm in love with you, and it's been a while, but lately I sort of sunk into it and realized it wasn't just a crush that was going to go away. And I'm not one for dropping hints and waiting around, hoping you'll notice - I mean, I am actually, don't get me wrong, but I'm trying not to be, because that way lies misery, and more pathetic pining than there already has been - which was too much - so. I'm here to say I'd like us to be together and I'll, you know, take your reply and -" he gestured with his hand "- take it back home and… probably drown it in something aged. Booze or… cheese…"

"What." Steve's throat was closing up, like it used to when he was still allergic to shellfish.

Tony squirmed where he sat. "Which - which part do you need me to repeat? Cause I was kind of ad-libbing at the end there and I'm really not sure what I said. Something about cheese." He swallowed heavily.

"You - You're in - You said you're in love with me."

"Oh. Yes. And I'd like to be together. You and me. Like, date." Tony gestured furiously between them as if that somehow encapsulated how he was feeling and what he wanted.

"Oh," Steve echoed, staring at Tony's hand as it waved towards him. "Oh."

He'd never considered it, never even crossed his mind. Sure, he was aware Tony was attractive; even if he hadn't noticed that on his own, the magazines at the grocery store checkout reminded him regularly. But that had never slotted him into the "potential romantic partner" category. First of all, Steve didn't know Tony dated men. Second of all, he didn't know he dated at all - he was famous for one-night-stands, but Steve hadn't seen him even doing that since he'd moved into the tower. And lastly, "Me? I - why… would you?"

Tony instantly cringed with a full body, held-together-with-duct-tape look that Steve had last seen on a SHIELD recruit he was giving a firm talking to for messing up during training. "I don't know," he muttered. "Do people normally know that kind of thing? You're kind and you're funny and you treat JARVIS like a person and DUM-E like a dog, which is hilarious. Your room is appallingly messy, but you wash every dish in the shared kitchen as soon as you use it and - well, and you're staggeringly hot, but you know that. I assumed you meant the other stuff."

Steve couldn't help but snort out a laugh. It was so _absurd._ The last thing he thought he'd hear today was a love confession from Tony Stark. "This isn't a spell or a curse or a weird magic artifact, is it?"

Tony's expression softened, allowing himself a small smile. "No," he said softly. "You can ask Rhodey. It's all I've talked about since you moved in."

"Oh. Wow. Okay." Steve dropped his face into his hands and scrubbed them vigorously. His mind kept running in circles that he couldn't break into. Tony _loved_ him. Tony wanted them to be together. Together. How would that even look? Steve hadn't given more than a passing thought to romance since he hit the future. It seemed impossible that he'd find someone who understood his life, his past, who could look past Captain America to Steve.

He tipped his chin up and looked at Tony, really _looked_ at him. Tony was staring nervously back, visibly holding himself back from talking more, or moving, or something. Tony saw Steve. Tony called him Cap, and joked about his uniform and his reputation, but at the heart of it, Tony saw Steve. He'd left a box of beautiful coloured pencils in the apartment he'd designed in the tower, he's taught Steve about JARVIS's white noise generator two days before July 4th, and he always seemed to appear at Steve's side whenever a fan started getting too pushy.

Unless - well maybe that was jealousy. For some reason, that thought made Steve smile.

Tony saw the smile and his lips parted. "Um."

"Can I try something?" Steve whispered, and Tony leaned closer to catch his words then nodded.

Steve half-pushed off the bed and tipped across the gap to press his lips to Tony's.  It took a moment to get the angle right, but Tony rocked back and Steve ducked his chin and his nose slid alongside Tony's warm and close. Tony seemed too startled to do much more than be still and let Steve test the taste of him. Something fluttered to life in Steve's chest, and when he pulled back, he couldn't stop grinning.

Tony's eyes darted back and forth between his, kiss-pinked lips parted, breath coming fast. "Steve -?"

"Yes. I mean, I think it would be pretty incredible to be with you, Tony. So… my answer is yes. To the question you, ah, didn't exactly ask." He chuckled dipping his chin.

Tony's hands landed on either side of Steve's face and tipped him back up until their eyes met. "Really? Actually no, I take it back. I got my answer. Don't take time to think about it."

Steve laughed properly now and pressed forward, drawn between Tony's legs by the hands cupping his jaw. "Okay… no thinking. Promise." The kiss was warmer this time, Tony becoming a more active participant as he leaned back on the bed and drew Steve with him. His tongue flicked along Steve's bottom lip and Steve gasped at the hot, wet touch. He braced against the bed with both hands as Tony settled fully on his back. The thrill of anticipation thrummed under Steve's skin. This was the last thing he'd expected when he flew to Germany for a boring conference, but there was no better way it could have ended than with Tony in his arms.

A knock startled them both upright, wiping shared spit off their flushed mouths and adjusting their rumpled clothing.

"That'll be the room service that you weren't." Steve trotted over to the door and traded a wad of bills for a tray of food.

"I guess I should go," Tony said softly, hovering by the bed still. "Leave you to your food. We can, uh, maybe we can do the whole date thing when you get back?"

"Tony. You flew across an ocean to ask me out and now you're going to leave? You've been here for half an hour, if that."

"Well, yeah. But I didn't want to, you know, presume." He shrugged.

Steve laughed again and reached out to grab his hand. He drew Tony close, and Tony settled up against his side, an arm around his waist. "I'm going to order more food and we can hang out for a bit. Maybe watch a movie? If you want to?"

"That sounds incredible."

"Besides, you need to, uh, 'drown my reply in something aged,' don't you?' I'll order wine and cheese." Steve grinned at Tony, and he winked back.

"To be entirely honest, I was expecting a 'no'. But I'll drown in anything with you."

Steve couldn't keep his expression under control as he picked up the phone to order a second meal and dessert. He was going to sound giddy, he knew it, but who cared what the concierge thought.

"You know… you're probably the most aged thing in this room. Kept on ice for seventy years…" Tony started knee walking across the bed, looking worryingly purposeful, grinning.

Steve brandished the phone at him. "You're not drowning your sorrows in me, Tony."

"Oh well, maybe more of a third date kinda thing." He smirked, still stalking closer.

"Tony!" Steve dropped the phone, forgotten, as Tony tipped off the mattress into his arms and they fell together again, stumbling back against the cheap hotel wallpaper, half-laughing, half-making out. The food could wait.


	13. Choose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Choose."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST, Not a Happy Ending, Not My Usual Fluff, Psychological Torture, Bad Guys, Choices MCD. 
> 
> Rated: T
> 
> For Kiyaar's stocking [here]() <3

"Choose." 

Steve glared up at the pair in front of him; the man's eyes solid black and polished, like slate, stared back, dead, empty. The woman - his sister - was looking at Tony, as much as she could be looking at anything with her dull, flat eyes of jade. Steve forced his gaze to stay on the man in front of him instead of following the witch's path across the room to where Tony flung himself uselessly at the bounds of the invisible cage that housed him.

Steve wondered idly if Tony could hear them; he was clearly yelling but the room outside the cage was silent, save for the man's firm demand that Steve, "Choose."

"One of you must die," he repeated, when Steve didn't reply, "Captain America -"

"- Or Iron Man," his sister finished.

Steve didn't doubt that they would kill them both if he didn't choose. He sucked a painful breath into aching lungs, splinters of snapped ribs digging into his flesh. It wasn't like it was a difficult choice to make, of course it wasn't. It took barely the time between two heartbeats for Steve to settle in the knowledge of what he knew he had to do. That wasn't what made him hesitate. 

What gave him pause was the long stretch of floor between him and Tony, the cruel barriers, invisible, but as solid as vibranium. There were things he needed to say, things to apologize for, questions he'd never sought answers to, answers he'd never offered. But they gave him no time, no chance to say goodbye.

"Choose," the man said again, sharper this time, losing patience.

And Steve couldn't risk that he'd lose his chance to have a choice at all. He lowered the shield and slipped to his knees. "Me." His voice cracked but didn't break.

The woman turned, releasing the gaze that was pinned to Tony for so long and facing Steve for the first time. A hot flood of relief let him flick his eyes over to Tony one last time. He was pressed up against the barrier, both palms spread flat. The helmet was off, discarded on the floor, and his face was twisted up with pain. Even if he couldn't hear, Steve's surrender was a clear visual: defeat.

_ I'm sorry,  _ Steve mouthed, because that was all he had. He didn't think Tony could make out the shapes on his lips, but at least he'd said it. At least he'd tried.

The witch smiled.

Death felt like lightning, and Steve never would have expected that, electricity crackling from his scalp down to his toes. He waited, tensed, but the shock didn't stop his heart, it just kept ripping through him. The shield vibrated in his hand then, with a noise like a gunshot, it cracked down the middle, falling to his feet in two broken pieces when his shaking hands couldn't hold them anymore. His lungs clenched in his chest, cramping and spasming until every breath felt sucked dully through a wet sponge. "What -?" he gasped, clutching a hand to his chest, but his glove was comically loose now, his sleeve rolling back to his elbow. Every muscle ached, every inch of his skin, as the serum was ripped out of his body by force.

Because he got it now: one of you must die, Captain America or Iron Man.

Captain America was dead, and Steve was all that remained, sickly, wan, pale,  _ useless  _ Steve, barely skin and bones. "No…" Steve croaked.

The man bent down in front of him now, a twisted smile cursing his lips, shiny slate eyes wide with delight. "My sister, she's much kinder than I am. She likes to offer a choice. Me? I'm not so generous." 

Steve's broken body was shivering now. "What do you mean?" he growled out.

"Well, now it's my turn to feed." The man looked back and forth between Steve at his feet and Tony, trapped on the other side of the room.

"No, no, no. You made me choose and I chose!" Steve tried to haul himself to his feet, but desperate cramping in what little muscle he had wouldn't let him unfold. 

The man laughed, a light, tinkling laugh, but discordant, like a music box wound too fast, and he straightened up. His tongue shot out, far too long and shiny with spit, and licked his lips, slowly, almost sultry. His sister had turned back to Tony but she looked at Steve again now, the dull green rocks in her head rolling in his direction. The man twisted his head towards Tony.

"No! Take me. Please, take Steve Rogers. Don't - you said. Leave Iron Man alone. Take me!"

The woman grinned. "Oh, who would want you now? Barely more than leather wrapped around a stick."

"No!" Steve lurched forward and the pair disappeared, his hands closing on nothing. Chest heaving with broken breaths, Steve finally managed to lurch to his feet. Tony had stopped beating against the invisible walls of his cage, standing stock still in the shadows by the wall. "Tony?" There was no answer.

Steve limped his way across the room, one hand stretched out towards Tony, but it recoiled when he got close enough to see -

The armour stood in place, arms at its side, still. Headless. 

Bile lurched up Steve's stomach into his throat. "Tony -" But Tony wasn't in there anymore; he was gone. The armour was empty, a shell.

Then it moved.

Steve staggered backwards, tumbling to the floor and landing hard on his tailbone. The armour bent, picked up the helmet Tony had tossed aside and settled it where a head should be. It turned towards Steve, eyes lighting up, the hum of electronics coming online.

Captain America was gone; Steve lived on. Tony was gone; Iron Man lived on.

Steve wished with everything he had that it had gone the other way.


	14. Rock Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts when Tony's too drunk to stand but he reaches for his half-full glass anyway, listing like a ship in a storm. Steve's hand darts out of its own accord and snatches the glass out of reach, knocking back the contents to keep Tony from spilling it on the carpet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST, Not A Happy Ending, Alcoholism, Drug Abuse, Addiction, Ultimates, Unhealthy Relationships.
> 
> Rated: M
> 
> For Ironlawyer's stocking [here](https://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/775387.html) <3

It starts when Tony's too drunk to stand but he reaches for his half-full glass anyway, listing like a ship in a storm. Steve's hand darts out of its own accord and snatches the glass out of reach, knocking back the contents to keep Tony from spilling it on the carpet.

Steve hasn't had much alcohol since the serum, and all of it beer in social settings. It's too mild to offer a buzz through his serum-jacked metabolism and too bitter to enjoy. But this is scotch, expensive stuff, and it flushes Steve's entire insides with warmth, like each of his organs has been laid out over a fire. It's the first time he's been warm on the inside since the ice.

Tony mumbles something irritable, and Steve rolls his eyes and brings the glass to the kitchen. He drags Tony to his room and tosses him, fully clothed - or at least as clothed as Tony ever gets at home - into bed and reminds him not to choke on his own vomit. 

When Steve walks out, headed for the suite he's been using since Tony took over the Ultimates - and since he somehow became Tony's damn babysitter - he passes the kitchen and the glass twinkles at him under the lights. 

**

It becomes habit after that, to save Tony the trouble of drinking himself into unconsciousness by downing the last of his glass himself. Tony's drink selection is varied, but each one has two things in common: it's pricey and it's strong. 

Steve figures out how to get a buzz after all, a happy fog that comes after the full body flush, and the trick is speed. While Tony monologues sloppily around their shared space, Steve chugs several shots from his open bottle and sure enough, a few minutes later, he's spinning. It doesn't last long, but it feels good. And it's a kind of good he hasn't touched in a long time, maybe ever.

**

It gets worse when Steve dives forward to lick the last of the bottle of scotch from Tony's lips. Startled, Tony flinches then makes a pleased noise and fists his hands in Steve's hair, yanking him closer to deepen the kiss. Steve doesn't really give a shit about kissing Tony, but he tastes like heaven, like bitter honey, like that happy buzz, and Steve chases it, swallowing down Tony's happy moans.

He has no excuse for letting Tony blow him three days later except that he's utterly wasted when it happens and "no" seems a lot harder to find the syllables for than "sure."

The fog fades just before he comes, and once he's painted Tony's lips with his spunk, Steve shoves him off, onto the floor with a thump, and stalks off to his room. He wishes the feeling could last.

**

Like most alcoholic, indulgent slobs, Tony still has the dregs of every medication he's ever taken in a sea of orange prescription bottles in a cupboard in his bathroom. Steve knows they're there from day one, but he doesn't uncap one until four months after his first drink. 

Tony has started to notice his supply of import booze going down too fast; Steve needs several shots at once to get started and a few more every ten minutes or so to keep the buzz over his body's desperate attempts to push through it. But Tony won't notice the pills.

He starts slow, but when it doesn't work, he doubles the dose. That puts a softness on the edges of the world. It's different from the alcohol, but just as pleasant, making everything spark off against his fingertips. 

He starts cataloging what Tony has. He starts scraping a few pills off the top of every one of Tony's chemo-driven refills when his math tells him the extras aren't enough to last. He keeps lying; that started a long time ago.

**

Steve wakes to the sound of the front door unlatching. He spits powdery glue from his mouth, coughing and licking to wet his aching tongue again. He's slumped on Tony's bathroom floor with three empty pill bottles. He can still feel the halo of happy softness humming around his head but he must have found his limit and passed out. 

He stumbles as he stands, chucking the bottles in the trash can Tony's never emptied in his life, slips out the door and catches Tony as he's on his way to his closet, suit jacket in hand. He can see the question forming on Tony's lips, eyes narrowing as he fixes them on Steve's - god only knows what his pupils look like right now - so Steve shuts him up with a kiss then fucks him into the soft, shag carpet until the last of the drugs have cleared his system and he has to remember to breathe on his own, without the easy one-two throb pounding in his head.

Tony's too sore and gasping to ask questions.

**

Maybe it hits rock bottom when Tony tries to kiss him and Steve punches him in the side of the head, too angry at his plummeting high to hold back. Tony doesn't talk to him for three days, but he always crawls back.

Maybe it hits rock bottom when Steve knocks a bunch of bottles over in the bathroom and is too floaty and too uncaring to clean them up. Tony says nothing; Steve lets Tony fuck his mouth until they're talking again.

Maybe it hits rock bottom when Steve lifts the shield stoned as fuck and someone dies.

Maybe Steve hits rock bottom when he wakes up in the kitchen, vomit drying on the corners of his lips and his first thought is to grab the bottle that's tipped over by his hip and down the rest of it, chasing that flying feeling with such gut-gripping desperation that he nearly sobs it all back up again.

But it doesn't matter, because the serum heals, resets, too fast, too easy and Steve can hit rock bottom a hundred times, a thousand times, and crawl back up to the edge again before anyone finds him there.


End file.
